


Whether We're Together or Apart

by louandhazfightmydemons



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anorexia, Eating Disorders, Fluff, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Smut, Oh my god so much Fluff, Protective!Louis, SO SORRY, Self Harm, Suicide Attempt, anorexic!harry, broken!louis, ed!harry, im a sucker for a good marriage proposal, im so bad at tags, insecure!harry, ok i think im done, suicidal!louis, there may or may not be a marriage proposal, this fic is my baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 05:13:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2138298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louandhazfightmydemons/pseuds/louandhazfightmydemons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles are head over heels in love. But what happens when you are forced to hide your relationship from the world? When you have to portray a false image of yourself? You break. Louis finds comfort in a blade against his skin. And Harry, well he just really doesn’t remember how to eat normally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Louis

**Author's Note:**

> Rated Mature for potentially triggering depictions of self harm and eating disorders.
> 
> Disclaimer: of course I own nothing to do with one direction, though I wish I did. I do not promote depression, eating disorders, or any form of self harm. If you are easily triggered by these things please do not read.

Louis Tomlinson’s public life is a big, fat, lie. He has a fake relationship with his girlfriend Eleanor Calder who his management set him up with to hide the fact that he and Harry Styles are gay and head over heels in love with each other.

  
They set Harry up with lots of girls to make him seem like he sleeps around. They want to make Harry, his sweet, lovable Harry, who wouldn’t hurt a fly, seem like a whore who lives to get in pretty girls’ pants.

  
Louis knows he is hurting Harry by being with Eleanor even though he has no choice. But what hurts even worse is seeing Harry out nearly every night with some new girl on his arm. Louis sees Harry in not-so-dark corners of the London clubs, sucking girls’ faces off. He knows Harry never actually sleeps with them, but it still hurts. So. Damn. Much. More than Louis cares to admit.

  
So Louis cuts. He cuts because it is the only way he’s found to relieve the seemingly unavoidable, bone crushing pain he feels. He cuts because no matter how famous, or how successful they become, he will never be able to openly be himself. He will never be able to kiss Harry in public, or sit in his lap during interviews. And these little things might be enough to one day kill him.

  
The first time Louis drags the blade across his skin is right after he returns from a much publicized date with Eleanor at this fancy Italian restaurant on the river. The date itself was fine, he actually somewhat enjoys talking to Eleanor, but on his way home he stopped at a newsstand to purchase the latest paper.

  
Louis’ eyes began to fill up with tears as his gaze fell upon the newsprint. On the front page of one paper was a picture of Eleanor and him holding hands and kissing. He would have been alright if that was all. But splashed across the cover of another vulgar magazine was Harry, his Harry, snogging some blond wearing fake eyelashes and a top that pushed her boobs up an appalling amount. The picture was sporting the headline, “Harry Styles, Womanizer?”

  
Louis ran back to his car without buying anything and began to cry; monstrous, ugly, sobs wracking his body. Harry was nineteen, two years younger than Louis, and yet he was made to look like he was shagging girls who could not have possibly been any younger than twenty-five.

  
Louis couldn’t take it any longer. He hated their fake relationships, but most of all he hated how they were making Harry out to be such a man whore.

  
With shaking hands and swollen eyes obstructed by large, salty tears; Louis did his best to start the engine in his car and make his way home. He almost thought he would have to pull over a couple of times, due to the fact that his vision was blurred with salt water, but somehow he made it.

  
He pulled into the parking garage of the building that contained his flat, which luckily was accessible by way of an alley around the back. This was most helpful when Louis wanted to avoid the paps, which was nearly always except when he was accompanied by Eleanor.

  
Feeling hopeless and full of desperation, Louis launched himself out of the driver’s seat, violently slamming the door behind him. Practically running, he stumbled into the lobby and jabbed urgently at the button for the lift.

  
Ironically enough, Harry’s flat was also located in Louis’ building, but Harry had the penthouse up on floor thirty-two and Louis was down on floor twenty. The building they inhabited was mostly home to business elite and other high class citizens, so they didn’t really have to worry about young teenage fans mobbing them or anything of that sort.

  
When the lift doors dinged open signaling their arrival on floor twenty, Louis tripped and stumbled down the hallway. He fumbled for his key and it took him probably twice as long to open the door as it normally would.

  
Once inside, Louis raced into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door even though he was the only one living there. He then stripped off his clothes and jumped in the shower where he proceeded to crumple to the floor with the hot water pounding on his back.

  
He was so done with this. This life of lies and utter bullshit. He just wanted to declare to the world that Harry was his and he was Harry’s. He wanted to twirl his fingers in Harry’s curls and whisper ‘mine’ over and over again. Sure the boys knew about their relationship, but it wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be enough until everyone knew and they didn’t have to hide any longer.

  
Suddenly, Louis became aware of something sharp digging into his thigh. Frowning, he moved over and realized it was his razor. Picking it up, Louis twirled the blade between his fingers.

  
He just needed to distract his mind from all the pain he was feeling up there. Maybe this would help. Slowly, tentatively, Louis lightly dragged the sharp metal across the soft skin that covered his inner wrist. It stung, but it actually felt kind of… good. Encouraged, Louis sliced his wrist again, harder and faster this time. Tears began to slip from underneath his eyelids. Then, he did it again. And again. He swiped the blade across his wrist over and over until he was sobbing uncontrollably and the steady stream of water rushing into the drain had turned pink. He lay there, naked in the tub, until his breathing had calmed and his wrists had stopped bleeding.

  
And that was the first time Louis Tomlinson, a member of the world’s biggest boy band, truly understood what it was like to be broken.


	2. Harry

Harry doesn’t remember when his relationship with food became so fucked up. But it is probably closely correlated with the moment their management decided it wasn’t okay for Louis and him to be in love, and started messing with their relationship.

  
Louis was set up with a girl named Eleanor attending the University of Manchester, and he, Harry, was pretty much told to kiss as many pretty girls as was humanly possible. He would receive a call from management telling him which club to go to, what girl to kiss, and exactly what location in order to allow the paps the maximum number of pictures.

  
The worst part of it all was that the majority of their fanbase made it very clear that they wouldn’t mind any one of the boys being gay. A large percentage of them even ‘shipped’ Louis and Harry by the name ‘Larry Stylinson’. So to be honest, Harry wasn’t sure what management was so concerned about.

  
A week after Louis started dating Eleanor and Harry endured his first night club set up, Harry invited all four of the boys up to his new penthouse flat. He had cooked steak and made salad, and all five of them were lounging on the couches in the living room watching a movie, plates balanced across their laps.

  
Harry had got up that morning, looked at his mostly naked body in the mirror, and promptly decided he wasn’t going to eat until the lads came over. He had just been overwhelmed by a sudden and very strong feeling of self-hate. He was just so fucking fat. His thighs bulged at the tops and his hips and stomach were pure blubber. It was probably better he and Louis were being forced apart, he thought. Because Louis deserved so much better than Harry. Louis was flawless, and Harry was just… Harry.

  
But the problem with Harry’s grand plan of not eating, was that he fantasized about food all day. He knew it was stupid, but he would get this idea in his head about exactly one specific food he wanted, and he wouldn’t let himself waste calories on anything else. Today Harry really just wanted fried mozzarella sticks with marinara sauce. He knew this was incredibly fattening, but he had bought a big bag of them at the store a while ago, and now they were just sitting in his freezer, begging to be eaten.

  
Harry told himself it would be much better if he just had some salad and a bit of steak with the boys, but he had an insanely strong urge to binge. He had known it was coming all day, and now it was practically consuming him. So Harry just picked at his salad, pretending to eat it. He sat next to Louis on the couch, and there was a great deal of incredibly awkward tension between them, so Louis didn’t even notice when Harry didn’t touch his food. In fact, Louis hardly looked at him at all. So Harry picked up their plates and cleaned up in the kitchen. He really just wanted the boys to leave so he could binge, but he patiently waited till the movie ended.

  
As the boys were all hugging Harry goodbye, Niall hesitated in the doorway. “How you holdin’ up mate?” he asked, scratching his neck nervously.

  
“I’m fine,” said Harry shortly. He really just wanted to be alone.

Niall frowned. “Okay. But like, I know it must be hard with the whole Louis situation and everything…”

  
Harry softened. “Thanks, Ni,” he said, giving Niall a hug. “I’ll be okay. Promise.”

  
“Alright. Call if you need anything.”

  
“I will,” Harry assured him.

  
As soon as Niall was gone Harry turned on the radio in the kitchen really loud, and grabbed the mozzarella sticks from the freezer. He dumped the entire bag on a tray, and set them in the oven to cook. He then got out a jar of marinara sauce, poured some in a bowl, and heated it up in the microwave. When the mozzarella sticks were done, he deposited them in a big bowl, grabbed the sauce and some paper towels, and went to sit on the couch.

  
He immediately began stuffing his face with the warm cheesy goodness. Harry moaned, he could not eat them fast enough.

  
He didn’t know how much time had passed, but the next thing he knew, the bowl was empty and his stomach was full to the bursting point. Groaning, Harry raced into the bathroom and leaned over the toilet. Nothing came up though, and he was too scared to shove his fingers down his throat. Harry wasn’t bulimic.

  
Leaning back against the wall from his spot on the floor, Harry began to sob. Christ, he was such a revolting human being. Why would Louis want him? Why would anyone want him? Harry grabbed his tummy with both hands, digging his fingernails in as hard as he could. He just wanted to cut open his skin and rip the fat out, pound by pound.

  
When he had finally calmed down enough to function, Harry dragged himself into his room, changed into pajamas, and crawled under the warm covers. He lay sniffling for hours until his brain shut up enough for him to sleep.  
Harry didn’t eat for three days after that.


	3. Louis

About two months after Louis began publically pretending to date Eleanor, there was a knock on the door to his flat at 5:00 a.m. on a Saturday.

  
Groaning, he dragged himself out of bed and padded across the hardwood floors, wondering what twat had the nerve to disturb him at this ungodly hour of the morning. Louis hadn’t had any alone time with Harry since management confronted them about their relationship, so he was surprised when he peered through the peephole and saw nothing except an unruly mass of chocolate brown curls.

  
Still half asleep, Louis drew back the dead bolt and swung open the door. Harry stood in his street clothes, his eyes were bloodshot, and he looked hung-over. Besides that, his green eyes were swollen and puffy, and his cheeks were streaked with tears. He must have been out all night. When Harry saw Louis, he stared at him with a look of hopeful desperation.

  
“Oh, sweetheart,” said Louis, his heart aching at the sight of his Harry so upset. “Come here.”

  
Harry immediately fell into Louis’ open arms. “Oh Lou. I’m s-so sorry,” he stuttered. “I was with this girl at this club, and she thought I really genuinely liked her. And she t-took me to the bathroom. And she – and she tried to-“ he took a stuttering breath.  
Louis sighed and kissed Harry’s curls. “Oh Haz. It’s okay. Let’s just get you inside.”

  
Louis led a trembling Harry back to his bedroom, where he helped him remove his street clothes before giving him a pair of pjs and a t-shirt to wear. Harry wrapped his arms around his stomach self-consciously, and tried to hide himself while he dressed. Louis frowned but didn’t comment.

  
After Harry was fully clothed, Louis crawled back in his bed and patted the sheets beside him. Harry sat down and buried himself against Louis’ chest. With Harry snuggled in his arms once again, he could almost forget about all the drama. Sighing contentedly, Louis whispered against Harry’s ear. “Let’s try and get some sleep, yeah?”

  
Drawing in a ragged breath, Harry nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

  
Happy at last, Louis fell asleep to the sound of Harry’s soft breaths, heavy with drowsiness.

  
* * *

  
When Louis woke for the second time that day Harry was still sleeping, except now he had his arms wrapped around Louis’ waist. Louis rolled over to grab his phone from the nightstand, but Harry must have thought he was getting up because his arms tightened around Louis’ waist and he mumbled, “No… stay.”

  
Louis chuckled and ran his fingers through Harry’s curls. “Mm not going anywhere Hazza. Just grabbin’ my phone.”

  
’12:48 p.m.’ read the digital display on his lock screen. Deciding they had got enough sleep for now, Louis pushed himself up into a sitting position with Harry tucked under the crook of his arm. “How are you feeling, babe? Do you want anything to eat?”

  
Harry groaned and rubbed his eyes. “No thanks. My head hurts and my stomach is kinda queasy, so I’m alright for now.”

  
“Alright. So do you want to tell me why you came knocking on my door at the arse-crack of dawn looking like a lost puppy?”

  
Harry let out a choked laugh. He took a deep breath. “So I was with this girl they set me up with, right? And it started out like all the others, talking and then kissing in a place that allowed the paps a clear shot. Then we danced some, and I was as polite as I could be, even though she was pretty annoying. But then, she dragged me into the bathroom. We were making out, which I can handle, but when she started to undo my pants, I – I lost it.”

  
Harry’s shoulders had begun to tremble, and he was crying again. Louis rubbed his back while whispering soothing words until he calmed down enough to continue. “Anyway, I pushed her a way and said I didn’t want to. But she just laughed and said, ‘Babe, I know you want me.’ I was panicking by this time, so I locked myself in a stall and told her I just needed a minute. But I was so scared. Lou, I was terrified. There happened to be a window inside the stall, so I pushed it open and crawled out into the alley behind the club. It was cold, and I was all turned around. It took me two hours to find my way back here. And I didn’t – I didn’t want to be alone. I’ve missed you Lou. So damn much.” Harry wiped angrily at his tears and stared up at Louis with watery emerald eyes.

  
“It’s okay sweetheart. I’ve missed you too. I love you so much, Harry. So, so much.” Louis hugged Harry close to his chest.

  
Harry’s eyes were swollen and bloodshot from the alcohol and the crying, but as he sat up in bed and stared straight at him, Louis thought he was the most beautiful human being in the whole world. “Can – can I kiss you Louis?” asked Harry tentatively, almost as if he expected him to say no.

  
Louis pushed Harry’s curls off his forehead and smiled. “Babe, you don’t ever have to ask.”


	4. Harry

Harry was the happiest he had been in a really long time. He and Louis spent the next couple hours cozied up in Louis’ bed, watching Love Actually and kissing. “Lou,” Harry whispered, when they were about halfway through the movie.

  
Louis grabbed the remote and hit pause. “Yeah babe? What’s up?”

  
Harry took a deep breath. “It’s just – I don’t – I don’t want to live by myself anymore. Nobody would have to know. And I’m so tired of sleeping alone.”

  
“I know, babe. How about you just stay with me for a while, okay? We don’t even have to tell the boys if you don’t want to.”

  
Harry sighed contentedly, giving Louis a sweet kiss on the lips. “That sounds perfect Lou. I’m so glad we aren’t staying away from each other anymore.”

  
Louis smiled. “Me too, Hazza. Eleanor’s really dull compared to you.”

  
Harry blushed and ducked his chin. “It’s just that, I know you have a girlfriend and you kiss her and stuff but I kiss tons of girls and it makes me feel like such a slut. I feel so dirty. They’re making me out to be such a whore and I know I don’t deserve you and I feel so ba-“

  
Harry was silenced by Louis’ lips crashing into his own. Louis pulled back and stared at him, his eyes warm. “Just shut up, okay? I love you more than life itself. You deserve me, I deserve you, and I want you. I know you don’t want to kiss those girls, and I hate management for making you. It hurts me to see you with them but right now there isn’t anything we can do about it. And fuck, I know its complete shit, but I love you, and you love me, so let’s just enjoy each other, even if it has to be private. Okay?”

  
“Yeah okay. Thanks Boobear.” Harry sighed in relief as Louis leaned forward to kiss him again, his hands fisting in Harry’s curls.

  
“So,” Louis began, as Harry ran his fingers through Louis’ feathery soft hair. “What do you want to do on this very rainy Saturday when we can’t leave the flat?”

  
“Um,” said Harry. “We could go watch some telly out on the couch in the living room, and then we could ask if the boys wanted to come over later tonight.”

  
Louis looked surprised. “Really? Are you sure you don’t just want it to be the two of us tonight?”

  
Harry chuckled. “Lou, they know we’re gay. It’s not like they aren’t aware of our relationship. Unless you want to be alone…?”

  
“No, this is great! I’m glad you want to hang out with them. We can order pizza and cheesy bread and play FIFA and watch movies. It will be just like old times. “Louis grinned and ruffled Harry’s hair fondly.

  
Swatting his arms away playfully, Harry agreed. “Yeah, sounds good. But I think I might skip the pizza and cheesy bread. My stomach’s still pretty queasy. Hangover and all.” He just really hoped Louis wouldn’t see through his lie.

  
He needn’t have worried however. Louis didn’t hesitate at all. “Okay sweetheart. I just hope you’re not getting sick.”

  
“No, I’ll be fine. Hey, I’m gonna take a shower. Do you have some sweatpants I can borrow?”

  
“Yeah of course.” Louis kissed Harry’s forehead, then climbed out of the bed and tossed Harry a pair of baggy grey sweatpants from his closet. “These ones are a bit long on me so they should fit you perfectly.”

  
“Thanks Lou.” Harry smacked Louis on the bum on his way to the bathroom, flashing him a smile accented by dimples.

  
Just before the bathroom door shut behind him, Harry heard Louis mutter, “cheeky bastard,” causing Harry to throw his head back in laughter.

  
After his shower, Harry towel dried his thick curls. Several months ago he probably would have gotten dressed in Louis’ room, but now he was way too self-conscious of his body. Once he was dressed, Harry stumbled out to grab a jumper from Louis’ closet. He selected the largest one he could find, hoping to disguise his thick hips and fat stomach.

  
Louis was in the kitchen on the phone when Harry padded in with bare feet. “Yes, I’d like three large original crust pizzas. “One of pepperoni, one of supreme, and one of BBQ chicken. Oh, and I’ll also have an order of cheesy bread with garlic dipping sauce. Yep that’s all. Thanks mate, have a good one.” Louis set down the phone and approached Harry. “Hey babe. Don’t you look cozy.”

  
“Yeah. But I’m bloody freezing for some reason.”

  
Louis frowned and went over to the couch, grabbing a blanket and draping it over his legs. Then he opened his arms and said, “Come ‘ere. I’ll warm you up.”

  
Gratefully, Harry crawled into Louis’ open arms, wedging himself between Louis and the back of the couch. Louis wrapped the blanket around both of them, and Harry shivered at the sudden warmth. “Haz, why are you so cold?”

  
Harry shrugged and nuzzled down into Louis’ neck. “I love you Lou.”

  
Just then there was a knock at the door. “Oi! Stop snogging each other’s faces off and come get the door,” came Niall’s playful Irish lilt.

  
Louis laughed and called out, “Come on in guys, its open!”

  
Niall bounded into the living room, exuberant as ever, with Zayn and Liam in tow.

  
“Awww,” Liam cooed. “It’s so great to see you too together again.”

  
Zayn scoffed, “Get a room.” But he reached out to ruffle their hair fondly, so they knew he was kidding.

  
Louis grinned. “Good to see you guys. But Hazza here isn’t feeling too well.”

  
Niall frowned. “What’s wrong, mate?”

  
Harry sighed and burrowed closer into Louis’ side. “I had a rough night last night.”

  
They all let the subject drop after that, because they knew how hard the “nights out” were for Harry. The tension, however, dissipated quickly after there was another knock on the door.

  
“That’ll be the pizza,” said Louis.

  
Niall bounded up from his spot on the second sofa and raced down the hallway with a yell of, “I’ll get it!”

  
About ten seconds later he returned with his arms piled high with a stack of three pizza boxes and the cheesy bread. “Did you get pepperoni?” asked Niall hopefully.

  
“Course, Ni. I got you one all to yourself,” replied Louis. “And Liam, Zayn? The other two are supreme and a BBQ chicken.”  
Niall, Liam and Zayn plopped down in respective arm chairs and sofas. “Ah Lou, you’re a saint. You got cheesy bread and everything,” said Niall happily.

  
“Yeah, thanks so much Louis,” chorused Liam and Zayn.

  
“No problem guys,” said Louis with a smile.

  
Once the movie was on and Harry was propped up against Louis’ shoulder while Louis ate his pizza, Liam frowned and glanced over at Harry. “Hey Haz, why aren’t you eating anything?”

  
Harry felt his heart speed up, and was beyond grateful when Louis squeezed his hand reassuringly and answered for him. “Harry’s stomach has been queasy all day.”

  
Liam nodded. “Feel better Hazza. Alright?”

  
Harry smiled. “Yeah. Thanks, Li.”

  
The rest of the evening was fairly uneventful. After the movie finished, and Niall had consumed an entire pepperoni pizza by himself, they all played FIFA until Harry was exhausted and Louis said he wanted him to get to bed so he could feel better in the morning.  
Crawling into bed later that night, Harry snuggled under the duvet, cocooned against Louis’ chest. “Hey Lou?”

  
Louis plopped a kiss on the back of his head. “Yeah Haz?”

  
Harry sighed happily, his thoughts becoming muddled with sleep. “I don’t ever want to stay away from you ever again. The past two months were the worst of my entire life. I missed you so much, Louis William Tomlinson.”

  
Louis gave a small snort. “Well, Harry Edward Styles, I’ll have you know that I have no intention of leaving you. Ever. Even though we have to put on a show for the media, what happens between the two of us is more important than any fake relationship could ever be. You’re perfect. You always will be.”

  
“Thanks Lou. You’re perfect too.” Harry felt his eyes tearing up and he wished that just this once, he could believe him.


	5. Louis

Two weeks after their early Saturday morning make-up, Louis’ world exploded. Things had been going so well with Harry. Some evenings Louis would have to go out with Eleanor and Harry would spend several hours in the clutches of a girl wearing more cosmetics than a circus clown, but they always slept together. Every. Single. Night. No matter what. Even if they didn’t see each other for the whole day, Harry would eventually show up at Louis’ door, and everything was perfect again.

  
In fact, Louis hadn’t cut since the Friday night before Harry came back to him. He could now seek comfort in Harry’s arms rather than the slice of the blade across his skin. Unfortunately though, all good things must come to an end, it seemed.

  
It was a Saturday evening, and Louis was spending it alone waiting for Harry to come home from his ‘night out’. He didn’t have to eat dinner with Eleanor because he had been with her all day. They had gone for a picnic in the park, and then gone for a ride on the London Eye.

  
Louis had just sat down on the couch and had turned on the telly when his heart gave an unpleasant lurch. The channel that was on was one of those horrible gossip reporting stations. The blond reporter was saying, “One Direction’s Harry Styles has just been spotted in one of downtown London’s many night clubs getting close and personal with one of Burberry’s newest models. An anonymous source has provided us with a video clip taken only moments ago.”

  
Louis’ heart began to beat faster. He knew he shouldn’t even be watching this. He knew it was just going to make him feel like shit. But somehow he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

  
The video was grainy and the sound poor but he could see Harry, his Harry, with his arms wrapped around a gorgeous, thin brunette girl. And he could just make out what they were saying. “I can assure you, he means absolutely nothing to me. Nothing has ever happened between us. Come on love, you have to believe me. Now what do you say you and I go somewhere a little less crowded?” Harry’s deep voice rumbled seductively and the girl giggled and leaned over to kiss him on the lips.

  
The clip ended and the screen cut back to the blond reporter who was grinning gleefully. “Harry sure is quite the ladies’ man. But who is this mysterious ‘he’ Harry was referring to? I know everyone will want to know the answer to that que-“

  
Louis finally managed to collect himself enough to switch off the telly. He felt numb. How could he have been so naïve? Of course Harry wouldn’t want to be with him when he had all the gorgeous ladies of London practically throwing themselves at him. Harry didn’t love him, didn’t want him. And why should he? Harry was so much better than Louis at every aspect of life. He had been stupid for ever believing that Harry really loved him.

  
Pushing himself up off the sofa, Louis ran, stumbling, into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. He needed to cut. Now. He ripped off his jumper and snatched his razor from its spot on the bathroom counter. Hands shaking, Louis dragged the blade across his inner wrist, slumping to the floor with thick tears streaming down his face. But it wasn’t enough. He began to slice across each wrist, harder and faster than he ever had before. He didn’t stop until both arms were throbbing and streaming with blood.

  
Feeling dizzy and nauseous, Louis managed to free his phone from the pocket of his jeans. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. And the worst part was. He didn’t even care. With shaking hands, he jabbed at Harry’s icon and held the phone to his ear. Though he was expecting it, his heart still shattered a little bit more when Harry’s phone line went straight to voicemail.

  
“Hey Hazza,” Louis’ voice was thick with tears but he still managed to smile a little bit. “Well shit. I guess I’ve really fucked up this time. And here I’ve been operating under the illusion that you actually loved me. I suppose I should be mad, but I can’t bring myself to blame you. After all, why would someone like you love a fuck up like me? But I didn’t call to yell at you. I love you Haz. So fucking much. And even if you don’t love me back, I still want you to be happy. Even if it isn’t with me, I still want you to find love. Because you deserve it. You’re such a wonderful person, and I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough for you.” Louis’ voice was growing steadily weaker. He could feel himself fading. “I’m so fucking sorry, because you deserve the best. You really do, Hazza. I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t live this lie any longer. Tell the boys that I love them. So much. With all my heart. But I – I have to go now, Haz. I love you.”

  
Louis hit the ‘end call’ button and let his phone drop to the floor. By this time he could hardly keep his eyes open. So he slumped against the wall, closed his eyes, and let himself slip into oblivion.


	6. Harry

Harry slammed the door to his flat and collapsed onto his bed with a groan of disgust. He fucking hated his management. He could not believe that they had paid the paparazzi to tape him lying about his relationship with Louis to his date for the night. He didn’t know how much longer he and Louis were expected to put up with this shit. Indefinitely, he supposed.

  
Sighing, Harry rolled off his bed to grab pajamas from the top drawer of his dresser. He had intended on coming up to his flat to take a shower before heading down to spend the night with Louis.

  
Harry found himself taking what was probably the fastest shower in history. His nights were always the best part of the day because they were the only moments he didn’t have to spend hiding. Spurred by the promise of seeing Louis, Harry dressed hurriedly into his pajamas, taking care not to look at himself in the mirror because he couldn’t handle another appearance based breakdown right now.

  
After towel drying his hair, Harry flopped onto the bed and grabbed his phone to check his voicemail because it had been turned off when he was at the club. Frowning, he noticed there was one from Louis dated ten minutes ago. “Hey Hazza,” Louis’ voice began. Harry’s chest gave a lurch. Why did it sound like Louis was crying? “Well, shit,” Louis continued. “I guess I’ve really fucked up this time. And here I’ve been operating under the illusion that you actually loved me.”

  
“No no no no NO!” Harry said aloud, sitting bolt upright on the bed, his hands tearing at his hair in desperation. What the hell was Louis talking about? Of course Harry loved him. What was he-

  
“Oh shit.” Louis must have seen the video clip that management set up. But he didn’t think he would actually believe that bullshit! Harry began to sob as he continued listening to the voicemail.

  
“…I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough for you…” Why was Louis speaking in past tense? “…I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t live this lie any longer. Tell the boys that I love them. So much. With all my heart. But I – I have to go now, Haz. I love you.” The voicemail line went dead. Harry was struck by a sudden, horrible panic. Louis wouldn’t – but it sure sounded like-

  
Without pausing to put on shoes, Harry raced out of his flat. He didn’t bother waiting for the lift, he sprinted straight into the stairwell. His face was streaming with tears as he stumbled as fast as he could down the twelve flights of stairs to floor twenty. He slammed into the door to the hallway and raced to Louis’ flat.

  
Harry fumbled for the spare key Louis had given him and rammed it into the lock. Slamming the door open, Harry tripped and almost fell in his haste to get inside the flat. “Louis?” he called. There was no response. “Louis!” he screamed as he rushed into Louis’ bedroom. It was empty, and the door to the bathroom was locked. He rammed his body against the door until it finally gave way. He almost was sick at the sight that greeted him.

  
Louis, his perfect, flawless, wonderful Louis, was slumped against the bathroom wall, lying in a pool of red. Harry let out a choked sob and fell to his knees at Louis’ side. He grabbed Louis’ phone from its place by his side, and somehow managed to dial 9-1-1.

  
Harry cried like his life depended on it the entire time he was on the phone, and by the time he hung up he was clutching Louis’ motionless body while an endless stream of tears poured down onto Louis’ bare chest. “Come on Lou, you can’t leave me like this. Don’t leave me alone to this fucked up life! Please! You’re the only thing keeping me sane, I can’t exist without you. Louis! I love you, and I’ll never stop loving you. Why would you do this to yourself?” Harry asked, gesturing to Louis’ scarred and bloodied wrists. “You’re so wonderful. So beautiful. Why don’t you realize that?”

  
With the abrupt arrival of the ambulance also came the arrival of Niall, Liam and Zayn. Harry wasn’t sure who had called them, all he knew was that they were there to pull him back when he refused to relinquish his hold on Louis’ unresponsive form.

  
Liam and Zayn had tears in their eyes, but Harry could tell they were trying to keep it together for his sake because Niall would be no help at all in the comforting department. He was full on crying.

  
Harry felt strong arms wrap around him, pulling him away from Louis, then heard Liam’s soothing voice in his ear. “Come on Haz. You can ride in the ambulance.”

  
Still sobbing uncontrollably, Harry allowed himself to be lead downstairs. He was ushered into the ambulance, where he immediately sank into a chair and latched onto Louis’ arm. A medic came in and began treating and bandaging up Louis’ wrists.

  
He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew he was being gently shaken awake by a female medic. “Sweetheart,” she said. “Come on with me. You can wait with your friends while Mr. Tomlinson is being taken care of.”

  
Lacking the energy to protest, Harry was led through the halls to the ER’s waiting room. He was still in his pajama bottoms and a ratty old jumper, but he was grateful Liam had insisted he put on a pair of Louis’ Chuck Taylor’s.

  
Upon entering the waiting room, Harry was enveloped by Niall who began sobbing into his shoulder. Liam gently pried off Niall and Zayn led him over to a bench in the corner, pulling Harry onto his lap. Liam and Niall came and sat beside them. “Harry,” Zayn said cautiously. “Do you think you could tell us what happened?” It’s okay if you don’t want to though, bebz.”

  
Harry sniffled. “No, it’s alright. You guys deserve to know.” So Harry told them how management had bribed the paparazzi to video tape Harry’s little skit and sell it to a gossip channel. He then told them how he had come home to the voicemail from Louis, and how he had rushed downstairs to find him in the bathroom.

  
“Do you – would you let us hear the voicemail?” asked Niall in a shaky voice.

  
Harry simply nodded through his tears, pulled out his phone and put it on speaker so they could all hear. By the time the recording was finished, Harry had curled himself into a little ball, knees tucked against his chest, and had resumed his crying. “Oh Hazza,” said Liam, a light flow of tears cascading down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

  
Wordlessly, Niall and Liam came over to join Harry and Zayn on the bench. They became a mass of tangled limbs, and it helped. Just knowing that they were in this together.

  
“Mr. Tomlinson is allowed visitors now.” They glanced up to see a nurse standing before them with a clipboard. “He has received stitches and a blood transplant and is now in a stable condition. But he has not yet regained consciousness.”

  
Harry sniffed and cleared his throat. “Will – will he be alright?”

  
The nurse looked at him sympathetically. “Mr. Tomlinson is expected to make a full physical recovery.”

  
“Oh thank god,” said Liam, exhaling as if he had been holding his breath.

  
Harry began to cry again, this time feeling weak with relief. He stood up and the boys followed suit, Zayn taking hold of one hand and Niall clinging to his arm. They followed the nurse down a hallway, Harry quickly growing impatient.

  
They stopped after what seemed like forever outside a door labeled 122. The nurse stepped aside and Harry very nearly threw himself through a door for a second time that night.

  
Holding his breath, he pushed it open to reveal a stark hospital room with a bed containing Louis, looking broken and about a thousand times smaller than usual.

  
Choking on his fresh sobs, Harry stumbled over to the bed. He was vaguely aware of Liam pushing a chair against the backs of his legs, and he sank gratefully into it. Louis was pale. His feathery brown fringe lay across his forehead, and his lips were parted slightly in sleep. Sterile-looking white bandages wrapped Louis’ forearms, and there was a tube disappearing into the underside of his elbow.

  
Tentatively, as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch, Harry reached out to hold one of Louis’ hands. They were cold, even compared to Harry’s frigid body temperature. Then he rested his head on the edge of the bed, and fell asleep to the sound of the other boys’ concerned murmuring and the steady beep of machines.


	7. Louis

Death so far was disappointing, Louis decided. He was surrounded by nothing but darkness, and though he had probably been pointlessly hopeful, he did not appear to have made it to Heaven. Louis knew this because Harry was not there. He had hoped that if he could not be with Harry in the land of the living, then perhaps in death he could bask in the love of his curly haired angel. This however, was evidently not allowed, and Louis wondered whether he would be floating in this emotionless limbo for the rest of eternity. Though it was vastly unexciting and dull, he would take it over the horrific, miserable ache that had encompassed him for so long. Louis wondered belatedly if the purpose for the dark world within which he now resided was to house people that were neither bad enough to be sent to hell, nor good enough to take up residence in Heaven. Louis wondered if he might encounter people like himself whilst he was here.

  
Though previously he had felt nothing at all, he was now aware of a sharp pain stabbing him in the head. It also appeared to be getting brighter, the darkness was fading away. Louis wasn’t sure how he felt about that. The light continued its pursuit until his head felt like it was going to explode. Louis blinked rapidly, and though the brightness did not decrease, his brain no longer felt like Thor had taken to pounding it with his hammer. As soon as his head was not at immediate risk of combustion, Louis became aware of a pile of chocolate curls and emerald jewels staring back at him. The gorgeous eyes that Louis loved with every fiber of his being, were rimmed with red and leaking large tears onto the rosy cheeks beneath them.

  
And then Louis was enveloped by long arms and large hands and a smell that was so very Harry that he sighed in content and whispered, “Heaven. I actually made it to Heaven.” But this caused his curly haired angel to retract his arms and begin full on sobbing, his whole body shaking as he gasped for air. And – what the actual fuck? – Louis was so confused. Why was his angel crying when Louis had made it to Heaven and was here right in front of him?

  
Harry looked up at him from underneath his curls, puffy eyes still leaking. “N-No Lou, no! You’re n-not in Heaven. For f-fucks s-sake, you’re not even d-dead!”

  
For the first time Louis took in his surroundings. He was not seated atop a fluffy cloud surrounded by harp-plucking cherubs, but quite the opposite. He was propped up on pillows in a hard bed in a very sterile looking room. His wrists were wrapped up with white bandages and there was a tube in the underside of his elbow. Louis was not dead. He was in a fucking hospital.

  
And then Louis was breaking down, tears beginning to stream down his face – because fuck he didn’t want to be in a hospital – and Harry was somehow managing to wedge himself next to him on the bed, wrapping his arms around Louis and cradling him against his chest. “No sweetheart don’t cry I’m sorry I’m just so fucking glad that you’re okay. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t because you’re my reason to live. I love you so much that I physically can’t contain myself.”

  
Louis sniffed and gazed up at Harry. “You mean, you don’t love one of those gorgeous models that you’ve been dating?” He was almost afraid of what the answer would be.

  
Harry looked as though Louis had slapped him. “No! Fuck, Louis of course I don’t. I’m so sorry you saw that video management had set up before I had a chance to explain it to you. I’ve never loved anyone else, it’s always been you. Christ Louis, I’m not even bisexual.”

  
“Oh,” said Louis in a small voice. “I just thought – it was too hard for me to believe that someone like you would ever love me.”

  
“Oh Loubear… I have a hard time understanding why you would want me. Just, like why didn’t you tell me about… that?” he asked, gesturing towards the bandages on Louis’ arms. “I could have helped you. Help me understand Louis, was it really so bad that you didn’t want to breathe anymore?” He said the last part quietly, almost as if he was afraid of scaring him. He probably was, Louis realized.

  
“I didn’t really do it on purpose,” Louis mumbled. “I didn’t exactly mean to take it this far. I just-“ Louis sniffed.

  
Harry stroked his cheek soothingly. “Sweetheart, it’s okay if you’re not ready to tell me. You don’t have to tell me.”

  
Louis shook his head. “No, I’m okay. I just, I mean sure I cut a little harder and a little deeper than I have before, but I guess I didn’t really want to die. I was just emotionally drained and I wanted the pain to stop, and I guess what I’m saying is that I wouldn’t really have minded if I didn’t wake up?” Louis glanced sideways to gauge Harry’s reaction and was alarmed to see that the younger boy was turning sideways to bury his head in Louis’ shoulder.

  
Harry clung desperately to Louis, and he let out choked sob after choked sob. “But Lou, I would have minded. Niall would have minded. Zayn would have minded. Liam would have minded. Our fans sure as hell would have minded. It would devastate all of us if you – if you had-“

  
“Shh, Harry. But I didn’t. I’m right here. And if you want me here beside you, then I won’t be going anywhere. Ever.”

  
But Harry was shaking his head violently as yet more tears soaked Louis’ hospital gown. “But Lou, I don’t think you get it. It would have fucking destroyed me. I’d be ruined. I can’t live without you. I am nothing without you.”

  
“No. Haz. Stop. Don’t say that. You don’t ever have to worry about losing me again. Now, give me a proper kiss while we’re still alone.”

  
Harry didn’t need to be told twice, and before Louis’ drugged up brain could comprehend what was happening, Harry’s full lips were on his and he was being pressed back against the firm pillows of the bed. “Don’t. You. Ever. Scare. Me. Like. That. Again,” said Harry in between desperate, hungry kisses.

  
This, Louis realized with a contented sigh, was what he would have been missing if he had died. He never would have been able to fist his small hands in Harry’s curls. Never would have been able to feel Harry’s lips on his. And for the first time in a long while, Louis was so fucking glad to be alive.

  
* * *

  
After a couple minutes of sloppy kissing paired with salty tears, Harry called the nurse to have her take Louis’ vitals. And a couple minutes after that, a sobbing Niall came rushing into the room followed closely by Zayn and Liam who both seemed to be holding back cries. Niall buried himself into Louis, and he could smell alcohol on Niall’s breath when he whispered fiercely, “Don’t ever do that again you bastard.”

  
Next Liam let out a choked sob and hugged him, careful not to mess with any of the tubes or wires, and Zayn nuzzled into Louis’ neck with tears streaming down his cheeks. All of this caused Harry to cry harder than ever, and he never let go of Louis’ hand even when he moved off the bed to make room for Niall. Then they all play a ridiculous game of Go Fish with cards that Liam had found god knows where, and Louis pulls Harry back onto the bed because he really needs to be held tightly right now. It’s nice, because none of the boys besides Harry have asked him any questions since they got here. They just pretend like it’s a normal day in their little family, it’s just taking place in a hospital rather than one of their flats. Niall eats copious amounts of food, Zayn strokes his hair every couple minutes, Liam looks concerned about all of them, and Harry gazes at Louis like he’s God’s gift to creation.

  
Later in the day the nurses allow Louis to leave his room in a wheelchair, so long as he stays within the hospital. Harry pushes him, and Liam walks beside him with a hand on his shoulder. “So where are you guys taking me?” he asks, curious.

  
“To one of the hospital’s conference rooms,” Zayn replies. “We scheduled a meeting with management.”

  
Louis’ heart begins to beat faster. “What? Why?”

  
“You didn’t think we’d let those sons of bitches get away with what they’ve done to you and Harry, did you?” Liam sounds angry. Liam’s never angry.

  
“Guys…” says Louis uncertainly. “I don’t know about this…”

  
“Louis, hun, this isn’t okay.” Harry squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. “What they’re doing to us, it’s sick. Don’t worry babe, we’ll get it all sorted out.”

  
Louis stayed silent as he was wheeled into a very normal looking conference room. The three heads of their management were present. To be honest, Louis didn’t even know the names of any of them. He tried to stay in as little contact as possible with them, and when the spoke they never introduced themselves.

  
Harry wheeled Louis up to the table, then sat down in a chair next to him. The boys filled in around them, as if to show their unwavering support for the two of them. Harry laced their fingers together and placed their joined hands conspicuously on top of the table.

  
“Hello boys,” greeted one of the men in suits. “How are you feeling Louis? We were so heartbroken to hear about your little… accident.”  
“He’s fine,” said Harry angrily. “Although he almost wasn’t. And it wasn’t an accident.”

  
The management official grimaced. “Right, well. What did you boys want to talk to us about? You said it was urgent…?”

  
Harry snorted. “Yes. It is. We need to stop hiding our relationship. It’s tearing both of us apart. That means Louis stops dating Eleanor, and I stop pretending to shag a different girl every other night. And we come out to the public.” He squeezed Louis’ hand reassuringly.  
“Right. Well. I am afraid that won’t be possible. The audience to which you are marketing is largely heterosexual females. So if you two are in a relationship together, well. It would really not be in your best interests.”

  
“Bullshit. That’s bullshit.” It was Niall this time. “The fans will love them just the same. It isn’t in your best interests, because you don’t want to represent a boy band that – heaven forbid – has gay members.”

  
“I’m sorry you feel this way but-“

  
“No!” Liam slammed his fist on the table. “Louis tried to kill himself because he and Harry have been forced to hide their relationship and pretend they loved others. You cannot just ignore something like that! If you don’t do something, we’ll all quit. And then you won’t be making any money from us.” Niall and Zayn nodded their agreement.

  
The men in suits actually began to look worried. “Alright. Okay. Louis, you can break up with Eleanor, and Harry, you don’t have to date those girls anymore. As for the coming out part, well you’ll just have to wait on that.”

  
Harry leaned over and kissed Louis’ cheek. “You okay with that babe?” When Louis nodded, he turned to their management heads and said, “Fine. We’ll wait for now. But I hope you guys realize how much you have fucked up our lives.”

  
With that, Harry stood up and wheeled Louis out of the conference room with the other boys following close behind.

  
After Louis was situated in his bed at the hospital, Harry fell asleep on the window seat, clearly exhausted. Niall and Liam had already left for the night, but Zayn sat next to Louis with his arms around him, petting his hair gently.

  
“You know,” said Zayn softly after a while. “Harry was the one who found you, lying in a pool of your own blood on the floor of your bathroom.”

  
Louis winced. He had figured as much, but it still hurt when he thought of sweet little Harry seeing him at his absolute worst.

  
“I don’t expect you to tell me, but I wonder why you would do that to him. You should have seen him, Lou. When Liam, Niall and I got there, he was lying across your body, clutching you as hard as he could and bawling his eyes out. Liam had to coax him off you just so the paramedics could get you in the ambulance. He rode with you by the way. And when the nurse said that you could have visitors, he was the first one in the room and I could tell he was trying so hard not to sprint down the hall to get to you. He really does love you, Louis. He loves you with everything he has. And I think he was sort of broken to begin with, and what you did shattered him even more. Just… don’t do anything like this again. Because I honestly don’t think he would be able to cope.”

  
Louis was crying again, but he looked over at Harry, curled up and sleeping like a kitten. “Don’t worry Zayn. I don’t think I would be able to cope either.”


	8. Harry

Harry stayed at the hospital for three days before Liam finally convinced him to go home for a little while. His relationship with food was only getting worse and worse. He had been starving himself pretty consistently for about two months, only eating enough to make it through the day. In the time before Louis went to the hospital, he had dropped 35 pounds from his starting weight of 150 so he had been at 115. But during the three days Harry stayed with Louis at the hospital he had eaten literally nothing, bringing his weight down to an all-time low of 110. Harry knew that what he was doing was dangerous. He knew that weighing 150 pounds at his height of 5 foot 10 was actually on the lower end of normal. But he had still looked fat. So he had starved, starved until he was dangerously underweight at 110 pounds. Because you see, Harry’s disordered mind had begun to associate being healthy with looking fat. The part of Harry that was still Harry told him to stop, that he was going to kill himself. But that little voice in his head had become not very little. And it told him he needed to starve. And Harry was powerless to disobey.

  
He had spent the majority of those three days pressed up against Louis on his hospital bed. Louis was actually pretty much up to full health, but the hospital had a policy about having to keep people who had attempted suicide longer than would be normal for anyone else. So even though Louis was in his right mind, he still hadn’t noticed that Harry had a problem. This was because he worked hard to keep it hidden. He wore oversized jumpers and baggy sweatpants that hung on his body in such a way that it was impossible to tell what he looked like underneath. So Louis didn’t see the way Harry’s bones were practically fighting to break through his skin. And Louis didn’t notice how every time Harry stood up he blinked rapidly trying to keep himself from passing out. The dizzy spells were the worst part you see. He didn’t even really notice the hunger anymore, but he was so weak that he could barely muster the energy to pick up a glass of water.

  
Louis seemed to be doing better mentally, but they still didn’t want him living alone when he left the hospital. So he would be coming to live with Harry in his flat. Harry was beyond pleased about this, because right now Louis was his only source of happiness. Even though he didn’t understand why Louis loved him, he was grateful to accept any love that came his way. Louis distracted him from his thoughts of food. Louis’ kisses made the voices in Harry’s head stop screaming. Louis made the darkness go away.

  
So when Harry finally went back to his flat leaving Louis in the care of Liam, Niall and Zayn, it was to shower and tidy up for Louis’ arrival. The doctors had told Harry that they would be releasing Louis the next day, so he could go ahead and get his first decent night’s sleep before going back to pick up Louis.

  
Harry made the bed and cleaned the bathroom and went to the store to buy food since he didn’t keep any at home for himself. His only concern was that he might not be able to starve as much when Louis was living with him. But he would find a way to deal, because he was not giving up the opportunity to have Louis as his flat mate again.

  
As the sun began to set, Harry put away the groceries in the fridge and headed into the bathroom for his shower. He undressed with his back to the mirror, not wanting to see his fat fat body. The scalding water felt amazing because Harry was always freezing these days.

But after about five minutes standing under the stream he began to feel light headed and oh so dizzy. So Harry sunk to the floor of the shower and wedged himself into the corner so that the water was still falling on him. He began to cry. He hated this. He was always cold, he could barely stand anymore without feeling like he would pass out, and the voice in his head still wouldn’t shut up. Because it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. If he didn’t get help soon, he would keep starving until his organs began to shut down one by one and eventually his heart would just stop beating.

  
But Harry couldn’t get help. He didn’t know how. He couldn’t tell Louis, because Louis had his own very horrific problems to deal with. And in all honesty, Louis was the only one that Harry would even want helping him. Plus, the boys had their hands full dealing with Louis’ problems too. Harry didn’t want to add to that. Because that’s all he was. An added burden.

  
And for fuck’s sake. Who would have guessed that two fifths of the world’s biggest boy band would be this fucked up? No one. No one would guess because they both hid it so well. Just like they hid their relationship. A suicidal self-harmer and an anorexic. Harry almost laughed. Yes, he knew he suffered from anorexia. He knew he had a problem, he was just in too deep to stop now. The voice was too strong. It controlled his whole life. His whole life except for Louis. And that’s what it came down to. These two broken, broken boys, needed each other more than they needed the air that they breathed. And yet their management was still lobbying to keep them locked in the closet, even while knowing full well that it might kill them both. It was nauseating. They made Harry want to jam his fingers down his throat and throw up.

  
Shivering, Harry braced himself against the shower wall and stood up. He turned off the water and quickly grabbed the fluffy white towel he had hung on his wall. Drying off his body and hair, he grabbed a brush from the counter and began to comb through his tangled and still damp curls. He was working at a knot in the back when a rather large chunk of hair came out with the brush and fell to the floor. Oh shit, he was so fucked. His body had deteriorated enough that it no longer possessed the nutrients necessary to keep the hair on his head.

  
Grabbing his hand mirror and trying not to hyperventilate, Harry saw that – thank Jesus – the missing hair was not noticeable. He then grabbed his ever-present scale from beneath the counter and stepped onto it warily. 110.04. Then he looked ahead at the mirror in front of him. If he weighed so little, why did he still look so fat?

  
The tears were falling before Harry could stop them. He clutched desperately at his thick upper thighs, crying out loud, anguished sobs. He pulled and scratched at his skin, wishing desperately that he could rip the fat from his body. He needed to stop. He needed to get his shit together. If not for himself, then for Louis. Because Louis deserved someone who ate. Someone who was healthy. Someone who was strong enough to fix Louis. And for him, Harry would try to fix himself.

  
So he stepped off the scale, pushing it back under the counter. He went into his room, pulled on pajama pants and two jumpers that were huge on Harry, and headed into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and pulled out a hardboiled egg. He sat down on a barstool at the counter and stared at the egg.

Eat it. Come on Harry, you can do it. Eat it for Louis. It’s only 70 calories. Baby steps. You can do this.

  
But the voice was having none of that shit. Stop looking at it. Have you seen your thighs? You’re practically obese. You don’t need any more calories to add to that fat on your bones. Listen to me. Don’t eat it. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t. Eat. Don’t eat!

  
And who was Harry to ignore the voice when it was so insistent like that? So he stood up, blinking rapidly to clear the black spots, grabbed the egg off the counter, and put it back in the fridge. Well he tried. No one could say he didn’t try. Then Harry went to his room and collapsed onto the bed. He fell asleep to the sound of his own sobs and the feeling of failure heavy on his heart.

  
* * *

  
“Morning babe.”

  
Harry woke to the feeling of someone lightly pressing a kiss to the end of his nose. “Louis? I thought you weren’t being released till later today? I was supposed to come pick you up and-“

  
Louis laughed and gave him a peck on the lips. “Shh sweetheart, it’s okay. I wanted to get out of there, and I thought you would enjoy waking up to a surprise.”

  
“Well yeah I am, I’m so glad you’re in such a good mood, Lou. But I don’t like the idea of you being here all alone while I’m asleep.” Harry frowned.

  
“I wasn’t alone. Niall’s out there watching telly.” Louis nuzzled into Harry’s neck and sighed happily.

  
“Oh, okay. How about I make you two some breakfast?”

  
“That sounds wonderful Haz. I’m so glad I get to live with you. I’m actually feeling a lot better today. My thoughts aren’t so… loud. You know?” Louis squirmed uncomfortably.

  
Harry just nodded, because yes, he knew. He understood this broken Louis a lot more than he cared to admit.

  
He gave Louis a quick kiss, then grabbed his hand and pulled him out to the living room. Niall beamed at them and rolled off the couch. “Oh look, it’s my favorite couple in the world.”

  
Louis giggled nervously but Harry pulled him close and planted a kiss atop his head. He was done with Louis thinking that he didn’t love him. Because he did. So fucking much. Harry loved Louis infinitely more than he loved himself. And it was partially his fault that Louis tried to kill himself, because Harry hadn’t made that clear enough. But he wouldn’t make that mistake again. He could fuck up his body, and he could fuck up his mind, but he would never hurt Louis. Because Louis was his sunshine. Harry’s world was a sky constantly overcast always threatening to unleash a downpour, and Louis was the gorgeous sun that fought tooth and nail through the clouds until he shone down upon the earth below.

“Hey babe,” said Harry gently. “Why don’t you go watch telly with Niall while I make breakfast alright?”

  
“Mmkay love.” Louis walked over to Niall who sat down and pulled Louis onto his lap.

  
Satisfied that his Boobear was taken care of, Harry went into the kitchen and pulled out the pancake mix, some frozen raspberries, and a bag of chocolate chips. Then he set about making his famous raspberry chocolate chip pancakes. He got out three plates, and smeared one of them with syrup and bits of pancake then set that one in the sink to make it look as though he had already eaten.

  
When the other pancakes were finished he piled them onto the plates, grabbed the syrup and cutlery and brought them out to Louis and Niall.

  
“Oh Harold, I knew there was a reason I loved you,” said Niall, winking at him.

  
“Where’s yours?” asked Louis suspiciously.

  
“I ate while I was making them. Sorry I couldn’t wait, but I was starving,” Harry lied easily.

  
Seeming satisfied with that response Louis dug into his pancakes, and Harry chuckled.

  
Louis glared at him. “What’s so funny?”

  
Harry snorted. “You make cute noises when you eat.”

  
Louis looked scandalized. “Tosser,” he muttered.

  
Niall was dying by this time, and Harry swore he was practically snorting his pancakes as well. “You guys are too cute.”

  
“Fangirl much Nialler?” asked Louis, causing Harry to bust out in laughter that spent far too much of his limited energy.

  
“Oi! Shut it,” said Niall in an adorable attempt at being a grump. “So, the boys and I were thinking we’d go for a day on one of those deserted beaches up the coast. You in Harry?”

  
“No thanks mate, I’ve actually been feeling a bit under the weather. I think I’ll stay here, as long as you guys promise to take care of my Lou.”

  
Louis blushed and gave Harry’s hand a squeeze. “I’ll be fine Haz. Really, if you aren’t feeling well, then you should stay home.”

  
Harry nodded. “Okay, I’ll just go make a cup of tea and watch some telly in the bedroom then.”

  
“Yeah, feel better mate?” Niall gave him a hug before heading into the hall to put on his shoes. “Thanks for the breakfast!” he called.

  
Louis stood up then, pulling Harry with him. He stretched up on his tiptoes so he could give him a kiss. Harry moaned approvingly into Louis’ mouth and grabbed the back of his neck to deepen the kiss. “You better go, Lou.”

  
Louis whined but walked into the hall after Niall. “Bye Lou,” he said softly as the door to his flat closed with a soft thud.

  
It was probably stupid of him to stay home because now he was lonely. And Harry could not handle being lonely. But Harry also didn’t do beaches. They meant shorts and sandals and worst of all, no shirts. He also knew that the boys would probably consume at least two ice creams each as well as several packets of crisps and some burgers. Probably. And there was no way Harry could get out of eating all of that. So it was best that Harry stayed home. Alone. Left to wallow in his own mental downpour with no sunshine to chase away the clouds. And fuck these thoughts sure weren’t helping the situation.

  
All self-destructive feelings aside, most of his day went fairly well. He pretty much just lay in bed watching Downton Abbey on Netflix all day. It was his guilty pleasure, because he knew if Louis found out he’d never hear the end of it. But around five o’clock, he went to the bathroom and before he knew what he was doing Harry was standing naked on the scale in front of the full length mirror. He began to sob because that thing reflected back at him, that blob of fat, was him. And no matter how little he ate, the image wouldn’t change.

  
But what Harry didn’t know, was that the mirror was a fucking liar. Because Harry wasn’t fat. Not at all. In fact, he was emaciated. He was skin and bones. But Harry didn’t know that because his eating disorder told the mirror to lie. The voice was just as persuasive to that piece of reflective glass as it was to Harry’s brain. And the voice would keep lying until it killed Harry. And just because it could, just because it wanted to, the voice decided to show just how in control it really was.

  
Harry was in the middle of scratching and tugging desperately at his nonexistent tummy and frail inner thighs when he became incredibly lightheaded. Worse than he ever had before. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised since he was nearing the end of his fifth day without eating anything, but the dizziness still hit him like a freight train. He stumbled off the scale and tried frantically to steady himself against the wall before he crumpled to the floor, slipping into nothingness.

 

* * *

  
Harry was still unconscious when Louis got home about five minutes later to discover his emaciated boyfriend passed out on the bathroom floor. And Louis held Harry in his arms and cried, because why the fuck didn’t he notice? Why didn’t he notice that his Hazza was just as fucked up as he was, if not more?

  
But Louis knew why. He didn’t notice because life is a bitch. And at the slightest sign of weakness, it seizes the opportunity to tear you apart. Limb from limb.


	9. Louis

Louis was crying so hard that he almost didn’t notice when Harry woke up. Louis should have noticed something was wrong sooner. He knew he should have, because Harry’s face showed the signs that were hidden by clothes. His cheeks looked like they had been carved out with a spade, and his jaw bones were sharp enough to cut diamonds. But Louis’ brain had even refused to notice this, because it didn’t fit. It didn’t make sense. Harry was strong. Louis was the weak one. Harry had picked Louis off the ground and cradled him in his arms while Louis sobbed. Harry couldn’t be broken. They couldn’t both be broken, because how could Louis fix Harry when he couldn’t even keep the will to live alive in himself?

  
He was finally alerted to Harry’s consciousness by a soft whimpering beneath him. “L-Lou? Is that you? D-Don’t look at me. P-Please don’t look at me.” Harry shuffled weakly in his arms and tried to cover himself with his arms. And oh – dear God – Louis couldn’t handle this. He began to sob even harder, if that was possible, and his very soul began to feel as though it were ripping apart at the seams. He wrapped his arms around his soul mate’s tiny body, and smashed his nose into the chocolate-brown curls. From his current position he could almost get lost in the freshly shampooed scent of Harry’s curls, because that at least hadn’t changed.

  
Pull it together Louis. Harry needs you. Just as much as you need him. He pulled it together for you, so do the same for him. He needs your love right now.

  
Louis pulled away from Harry cautiously to look down at him. He seemed to be fully awake now, and was lying rigid and frozen in Louis’ arms. His eyes were wide and emerald green and terrified. Taking one last deep breath, Louis sighed and said, “Come on Haz. Let’s get you some clothes and some tea and then we’ll talk.”

  
Harry started shaking his head violently as tears began to roll down his cheeks. Louis spoke quickly, “No, come on babe. Don’t cry. It will get better, I promise. You helped me heal, and now I’ll try to do the same. So let’s go get in bed. Here, I’ll help you.”

  
Louis hooked an arm under Harry’s armpit and pulled him up so he was standing beside him. Harry tried to take a step forward but just ended up stumbling and almost collapsing again, so Louis scooped the younger boy into his arms for the first time. Harry had always been taller than him, but now he weighed far less. But to his surprise Harry let out a cry of protest, “No Louis! I’m too big for you to carry. I’m far too heavy for that.”

  
And Louis almost broke down again after that. Because no he wasn’t. Harry hardly weighed anything. “Sweetheart, shush. You weigh less than me now. So stop.”

  
He carried Harry into the bedroom and lay him gently on the bed. He found a pair of flannel pj’s and a fuzzy jumper with a hole in the hem, and he gently pulled Harry’s bony limbs through the fabric. He tucked the comforter around Harry before going into the kitchen to make two steaming cups of tea. When he returned, Harry had curled himself into the fetal position and was rocking back and forth on top of the blankets. It was unsettling.

  
But then again, Louis supposed it would it also be rather unsettling to see your boyfriend seemingly bleed himself dry right in front of your eyes. So Louis decided he could deal with it. “Harry, hun. I have your tea. Let’s talk about this. Remember, I understand how you feel. I mean, starving yourself is a form of self-harm, right?”

  
Harry winced and began to rock faster. Louis set the tea on the night stand and sat down next to him, pulling Harry up tight against his side. “I just mean, I know what it’s like to hate yourself, and I know what it’s like to be scared to get better. Hell, I still am. And I know what it’s like to feel so exhausted that you can’t sleep. To be plagued by voices constantly telling you that you’re nothing but shit. I understand Harry, and I want to help you. But you have to talk to me. We can go slowly, I promise. I won’t force you into anything you’re not ready for.”

  
Harry sniffed and nodded. “B-But how can you h-help me when you aren’t even better yet yourself? We’re both so broken, Lou. And I just don’t understand how this will work when neither of us is healthy. Mentally or physically. How the bloody hell is this ever going to work?” Harry had a hand fisting in Louis’ t-shirt now. His other hand was frantically wiping away tears from his pale cheeks.

  
“But Haz,” said Louis. “One of us doesn’t have to be the strong one. We fix each other. That’s how this whole love thing works, remember? I want to fix you, Harry. Please just let me fix you.”

  
“Okay…okay.” Harry nodded and hugged Louis tighter. “I’ll try, but when I- when I starve- it’s the only time I feel in control. When I eat, my entire world becomes this downward spiral of chaos. But I’ll try. For you, Lou, I’d try anything. I just want- you deserve someone who’s healthy. I want to recover for you Louis. Fuck, I love you so much. And I don’t know if forever exists, but if it does, then I want to be able to be yours forever. So I’ll try to get better. Just- I need your help.”

  
“Of course. You’re not alone in this. You never have to be alone in anything ever again. And I love you too. So damn much. We can figure this all out in the morning. Let’s just get some sleep now, okay?”

  
Harry sighed in what seemed to be content. “Yeah Boobear. Okay. We can sleep soon. Just kiss me, you twat.”

  
Louis laughed and stared down at Harry’s tear stained face, cradling his fragile body in his arms. To be honest, he was afraid of breaking Harry. Just the way his bones looked like they were practically poking through his skin… it made Louis painfully aware of how he could lose Harry at any moment, and of how glad he was that he found out about Harry’s disorder now, instead of…later. No, he couldn’t think about that. He wasn’t going to lose Harry, he would fix him. He would.

  
And now, Louis was leaning over the body of a boy tightly caught in the clutches of anorexia. A boy who carried half of Louis’ soul with his own. A boy he couldn’t live without. Harry Styles. He loved him. And he wasn’t about to let him go.


	10. Harry

Harry awoke to the cozy aroma of breakfast. But while this would normally be a comforting scent for him, today it sent his weakened heart into a panicked birdlike flight. He began to gingerly scoot himself to the edge of the bed, but he felt lightheaded already and he hadn’t even stood up yet. Luckily, however, Louis turned up in the doorway with a tray of food so he did not have to subject himself to the rather high risk of fainting. Scooting backwards into the blankets, Harry curled his legs up and clutched his knees to his bony chest. He was starting to panic. Oh fuck, this really was not good. He was freaking out, because he knew Louis intended to force him to eat something. And even though he knew he had to eat, he still sure as hell didn’t want to.

  
“Morning, sunshine,” said Louis as he balanced the steaming tray at the foot of the bed. He smiled down at Harry but his bright tone wasn’t fooling anyone. Underneath the cheerful, carefree demeanor he had put on, Louis was terrified. Harry could see that. He was terrified that Harry would refuse to eat. That he would have to seek professional intervention. And Harry knew that any professional intervention was sure to be caught by the paps. And Harry just didn’t think that any of them could deal with the fans finding out about this. He didn’t want them to find out because he knew that they were notorious for overreacting. And an overreaction in this situation could very well be fatal. He remembered rumors of fans cutting when Louis and Zayn were caught smoking pot on some yacht in Florida, and if they would cut for that? Well. Harry didn’t even want to think about what some of them would do if they found out about how very fucked up Harry and Louis actually were. He just could not deal with the thought of their fans, the people who supported them through everything, hurting themselves because of him. If he was even part of the reason for someone taking their life, his will to live, no matter how big or small it was before, would shatter completely. And he just wouldn’t be able to take it any longer. Because he loved their fans. And he couldn’t handle it when they were hurting.

  
Louis leaned down to press warm lips to his forehead, and Harry hmmed in response, trying to portray an image of contentment. He didn’t think he had Louis fooled. “Babe?” said Louis softly, as though he were afraid Harry would bolt for the door if his voice rose above a dull murmur. “I made breakfast.”

  
Harry felt his heart flutter even faster, if that was possible. The feeling was definitely not pleasant. So even though he knew his efforts were probably futile, he still tried, “Mm not hungry.”

  
Louis sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, stroking a hand up and down Harry’s arm. “Sweetheart, come on. I’m not buying that. Please don’t make this harder than it has to be. I don’t want to fight you on this. I just want you to get better. Look, I made scrambled eggs, I didn’t put butter or cheese or anything in them. I just want you to eat a little. I know you can’t eat too much because your stomach won’t allow it. We’ll start out slow. Take it day by day, yeah? I’ll give you half a slice of unbuttered toast, and two scrambled eggs. You don’t even have to eat all of the eggs, okay? Can you do that for me Haz?”

  
Harry took a deep, steadying breath. He wanted to get better, he really did. For Louis, he would recover. But it simply wasn’t his fault that the thought of consuming food was just about the most terrifying thing in the world to him right now. But this was less than 200 calories. He could do this. He needed to gain weight, or he would die. And he couldn’t do that to Louis, especially after he experienced firsthand what it was like to think that the only person holding you together was dead. And if he was being honest, Louis’ suicide attempt was what caused him to slip under the last little bit. They really did need to fix each other. And Harry was confident he could save Louis, he just didn’t know if he could save himself. He supposed that he would just have to trust that somehow Louis could get through to the part of his brain controlled entirely by the eating disorder. Because that wasn’t Harry. It was like a particularly horrific parasite that invaded his thoughts and tampered with his self-image. Made it impossible to like himself. But Harry wanted to beat it. He wanted to win so badly. And so he would eat those damn scrambled eggs and that unbuttered toast and he would work his hardest to pull himself out of the seemingly bottomless trench he had fallen into. A trench filled with voices that never shut up.

  
“I – I’ll try. I don’t want to disappoint you, Lou.” Harry felt a tear slide down his cheek and looked up at Louis to show that he wasn’t afraid of the fight.

  
Louis pulled him against his chest, and Harry felt him sigh. “Good. That’s all I’m asking, is for you to try. But this isn’t about pleasing me. It’s about you needing to be healthy. I love you Harry, and I need you to get better. But I also want you to want to get better. I don’t think this can work if you don’t want to recover. Now, let’s eat. You can do it. I know you can. You’re so strong Hazza.”

  
Harry was handed a plate with half a piece of toast and a small pile of eggs as promised. Louis, in contrast, had a heaping platter of food complete with crispy bacon that Harry had to admit, smelled heavenly. He took his time, scooping up bird bite-sized forkfuls of egg. Louis – bless his heart – made no comment about the sloth-like pace with which he ate. And Harry did well. In fact, even though it took him at least a half hour, he managed to finish the toast and about three fourths of the eggs before his stomach started to feel uncomfortably full. Louis had finished a while before, but he had simply leaned back against the wall and wrapped an arm around Harry. Not commenting on how he ate, how long it took, or how he winced a little with every bite he took. And Harry loved him for it. More than he could ever say. “Um, Lou? I’m f – full. I can’t eat anymore.”

  
Louis scooted closer and pressed his lips hard against Harry’s. “That’s okay babe. You did so well. I’m so proud of you. This is good progress. I love you.” And that was that. He just continued kissing Harry like the sweet little touches of lips could make him forget the pain. Louis really was a drug to him. He was the only thing that could ever fully silence the voice in his head. So really it was a fucking miracle that Harry had him all to himself. He might actually have a chance to recover this way. But he didn’t want to think about his disease right now. He wanted to surround himself in all things Louis until he couldn’t feel anything but love. Because love was really what he needed right now.

* * *

After about a half hour filled with cuddles and kisses that made Harry forget that both of them had lost their innocence a long time ago, Louis sat up and turned to face him. “Hey Hazza? I think we should tell the boys.”

  
When Harry began to shake his head violently from side to side, Louis spoke hurriedly. “Now, calm down sweetie. I think they deserve to know. They’re our brothers, Harry. And plus, they really helped with me during my days in the hospital. You deserve as much help as you can get, and they love you so much. I know they would want to be there for you. I can even be the one to tell them, if you don’t want to. You can be in another room, or you can do it yourself. Whichever way would be easiest for you, that’s how we’ll do it.”

  
Harry hesitated before snuggling up against Louis’ chest. “Yeah, alright. I s’pose.”

  
“Good.” And Harry could hear that special smile that was just reserved for him in Louis’ voice. “So how do you want to do it?” He had taken to absentmindedly toying with Harry’s curls while he spoke.

  
“Want you to tell ‘em,” Harry mumbled.

  
“Okay. I can do that babe. Do you want to be with me or…?”

  
“Can I be somewhere else?” he asked shyly.

  
“Yeah, of course. I think the boys said they were playing FIFA at Liam’s place today, so we can head over there and you’ll just wait in his bedroom while I talk to them, okay?”

  
“I guess.” Harry knew he was sulking, but it was just to hide how nervous he was for how the boys were going to react. What if they never acted the same around him ever again?

  
“Sweetheart.” Louis hugged him tight against his body. “Chin up, alright? It will be okay, I promise. I’m going to fix you. I will.”

  
“It’s just – “ Harry wasn’t crying. He swears he wasn’t. “Just like, what if they act weird around me or something? I don’t want them to treat me differently because – because I don’t think I could deal with that.”

  
And then Louis was enveloping him from all sides, gently thumbing away the tears that fell from Harry’s jade green eyes. “No, Harry baby. They aren’t ever going to treat you any different. We are a family, and we stick together. The boys will always love you, just like you will always love them. Don’t worry about it. Just concentrate on recovery with the people who love you most as your support team.”  
Harry sniffed and Louis plopped a kiss on the top of his head. “Okay. Let’s just get this over with, then.”

  
Louis stood up first then reached back to help Harry, and though Harry protested he was secretly grateful for the arm around his waist preventing him from toppling over in his still unbearably weak state. So Harry allowed himself to be led out of his flat, into the lift, down to the parking garage, and into the shotgun seat of Louis’ beloved Porsche.

  
The windows were heavily tinted, thank God, so no one could see Harry in his current vulnerable state. In fact, he was still wearing the flannel pajamas and oversized jumper Louis had put him in the night before, and he was quite certain that he hadn’t showered in two days. He actually would have been quite comfortable, if it weren’t for the fact that it was a crisp November day and Harry, like always, was freezing. They were about halfway to Liam’s flat when he finally voiced his discomfort. “H – hey Lou?”

  
“Yeah babe?” Louis glanced away from the road to gaze fondly at him.

  
“Uh, could you turn up the heat?”

  
Louis looked surprised. “You’re cold? But I have it on quite a lot…”

  
Harry fidgeted in his seat. “Um…yeah I’m just kind of always cold? Like ever since…” he trailed off.

  
And then something seemed to click because Louis gave a little gasp and said, “Oh Harry. I knew that happened sometimes to people with anorexia, but I never thought – I just never imagined that you would –“ Louis started to cry. Tears began to leak out of his clear blue eyes and form tracks on his pink cheeks. He took a deep breath and focused again on the road.

  
Harry couldn’t handle that. “No, Lou. Please don’t cry. I’m fine. I just get cold, that’s all.”

  
“No Harry, you’re not fine!” Louis had pulled the car over to the side of the road. “Do you understand why you get cold? It’s because you have lost so much body fat that you no longer have enough insulation to keep yourself warm. There is nothing fine about that! Has anything else like this happened?” Louis had turned to face Harry and was pinning him to the seat with his stare.

  
“No, that’s all,” he lied.

  
“Harry…” Louis’ voice was almost pleading.

  
Harry let out a groan. “Well, uh… a chunk of my hair fell out a couple of days ago.” The last part he mumbled, barely above a whisper, but he knew Louis had heard him because he let out a sob. Unbuckling his seatbelt Louis reached across the center divider to pull Harry into a hug that nearly crushed his malnourished bones.

  
“Oh sweetheart. I didn’t know you were this bad! Hazza, it’s going to get better. I’m going to make it get better,” it seemed like Louis was trying to reassure himself more than Harry at this point.

  
“Lou… can’t….breathe,” Harry choked out.

  
“Right. Sorry.” Louis pulled back and wiped at his face with a tissue. “Let’s just get to Liam’s. I’m okay. We’re okay.”

  
They pulled back into traffic and the car was quiet for the rest of the ride, but Harry didn’t let go of Louis’ hand until they were parked in the garage of Liam’s building, giving each other’s palms the occasional squeeze.

  
On the way up, Louis again walked with his arm wrapped tightly around Harry’s waist, his other hand gripping Harry’s left to provide him with even more stability.

  
When they reached the door Harry could hear calls of “take that you tosser!” as well as the distinct sound of Niall cussing. If it had been any other day, he would have laughed. Instead, he just reached out and hit the buzzer with trembling fingers.

  
There was the sound of footfalls heavy with laziness and then the door swung open to reveal Zayn. “Oh, hey guys. What are you doing here? Liam is in the process of beating Niall at FIFA so I… is something wrong?” Zayn frowned. He seemed to notice Louis was holding Harry who appeared to be on the verge of collapsing, still in his pajamas and leaning heavily into Louis’ side.

  
“We have to talk to you guys. It’s important,” said Louis, thankfully sparing Harry from having to speak through the boulder sized lump in his throat.

  
Zayn looked worried. “Um… okay. Come on in.”

  
The broken pair made their way into the flat, Louis leading Harry over to the large bed in Liam’s room. “I’ll try to make this as painless as possible. Don’t worry about it. Just stay here and rest.” After placing a kiss on his still slightly swollen lips, Louis left Harry alone on the bed and went out into the living room, closing the door behind him.

  
Harry couldn’t really make out what they were saying, but it started out quiet, then got progressively louder as the voices rose in confusion and disbelief. Then Niall’s obnoxiously loud crying was added to the mix, which was what threw Harry’s emotions over the edge because it simply reminded him too much of the first night at the hospital, the night he was thrown over the edge.

  
“I don’t believe it…” said Zayn.

  
“But he just can’t be…” wailed Niall.

  
“We would have noticed something…” was Liam’s response, always trying to find a logical way out of every undesirable situation.

  
Then there was Louis. “No, mates. Look, I would have thought I’d have noticed something too. I mean, I’ve been living with him for the past couple months for Christ’s sake! But no. The way I found out was coming home from our day at the beach to him passed out cold on the bathroom floor in front of the mirror, completely naked, with a fucking scale beside him. And the worst part was, I gathered him into my arms, and he didn’t wake up immediately. And then I saw that the number was still on the scale, because it was one of those electronic ones or whatever, and guess what it said? One hundred and ten point zero four. And then I was really terrified that I’d lost him. That he wouldn’t ever wake up. And for fucks sake. You know I went online when he was still asleep this morning and calculated his BMI because I was curious? And guess what it was? Fifteen point eight. Eighteen point five is what they consider underweight. Anything below that is… well. And he is well under it. I think we would have lost him if we hadn’t found out soon. And we still could lose him. So I need your guys’ help. I want to try to get him back up to a healthy weight without sending him to a clinic because I think that would be way too hard to keep under wraps. I mean we can do that if we try this on our own and it doesn’t work, because there is no way in fucking hell that I’m going to lose him. If I have any say in it, our Harry will live to be old and grey. And I think we can do it if we all work together, but we have to be extra sweet about everything. He didn’t even want me to tell you guys at all. H – Harry is pretty fragile. If I’m honest, I think his problems are much deeper rooted then mine were… are. It’s just, he doesn’t – he doesn’t fucking know how absolutely goddamn beautiful he is. And it hurts me. Fuck, it hurts so damn much.” Louis was crying again. His breath hitching, and his words broken up by the tears. And Harry was crying too. He lay on Liam’s bed, with tears streaming down his sunken cheeks, trying to figure out how to put himself back together again.

  
Then the door was opening, and Harry was reminded how lucky he was to have been put in this band for reasons that had nothing to do with his musical career. Niall was hiccuping through his tears, bounding across the room and latching himself onto Harry like a loyal puppy. “H – Harry, mate. God I love you so much damn you I love you fuck you Harry I love you.”

  
Niall didn’t let go of him when Liam came over and held his face in is warm palms. And he had tears in his big brown eyes when he said, “Harry Styles, you look at me. Harry, you are the sweetest, kindest, most wonderful human I have ever met. You have such a big heart, filled with so much love. I just wish you knew that you have enough for yourself. You are perfect. You always have been, and you always will be.”

  
And that was nice, really, it was. But Harry had such a hard time believing compliments, that when Zayn didn’t say anything, just wrapped him in a tight hug and pressed his wet cheeks into his hair, murmuring “Harry, Harry, Harry,” it felt wonderful. Because it didn’t feel like Zayn was lying to him just to make him feel better, it felt like Zayn just wanted to hold him, just needed to hold him, and that was the thing that went through the most to Harry’s fucked up brain.

  
Then Louis came over and they all lay on the bed in Liam’s cozy apartment, clinging to one another. And Harry hadn’t felt this loved in a very, very long time.

 

* * *

 

When Louis and Harry got back to the flat, Harry crawled into bed and Louis hopped in the shower. Just as Louis was toweling off, his phone buzzed from its spot next to Harry on the nightstand, signaling a phone call. “Can you answer it for me?” called Louis from the bathroom.

  
Harry snatched up the phone. “What’s your password?” he asked.

  
“0-2-0-1,” came the reply. He typed in the code then hit ‘accept’. It said ‘Mum’ on the caller ID.

  
“Hi Jay. This is Harry.”

  
“Oh Harry, sweetheart, how are you? Is Louis there?” came Louis’ mum’s familiar voice.

  
“Yeah, he just stepped out of the shower. Oh here. He’s coming right now.”

  
Who is it? mouthed Louis.

  
“Your mum,” whispered Harry, handing over the phone.

  
“Hey Mum. Yes. I’m doing much better. No… what? That’s not what I… Mum! I’m living with Harry because they didn’t want me alone.

Yes, I know you’re not stupid… that’s not what I was implying at all. Look, if you want… but I have to stay here… yes of course I understand the importance of family right now. Yes, I know you and the girls are worried about me. But I can’t… look… alright fine.

Tomorrow? Yeah I guess I can do that. But I have to sort some stuff out first so it won’t be until evening… okay. Yeah. I love you too Mum. Tell the girls I say hi. Alright, bye. See you tomorrow.” Louis tossed the phone on the floor and collapsed onto the bed, pulling Harry into his chest.

  
“What was that about? What do you mean you’ll see her tomorrow?” Harry could feel his heart start its panicky birds’ flight again.

  
Louis sighed. “She lectured me on how worried they’ve been since… yeah. And she wants me to go stay with them in Doncaster for a few days. Don’t worry babe,” he said quickly upon seeing Harry’s frightened gaze. “I’ll have one of the boys come stay with you, I’ll make a meal plan or something for them to follow while I’m gone. And I’ll make sure they don’t try to force you into eating too much. It will be fine. I’ll just be a phone call away, yeah?”

  
Harry sniffed. “Yeah, I guess. I just – I think you’re the only person who can hold me together right now. I’m scared Lou.”

  
Louis sat up and gave him a sweet little kiss on the lips. “I know you are Hazza. And I understand what that’s like. I know how it feels to be so terrified of something and you can’t even explain why you’re so scared and it feels like you’re drowning while everyone else around you is staying afloat. But I promise, that I won’t let you drown. I’ll give you my fucking life vest if I have to.”

  
Harry gave a small little giggle, though he knew Louis was serious. “Louis?”

  
“Yes Harry?”

  
“Why is the password to your phone 0-2-0-1?” he had a pretty good idea of what the answer would be, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up.

  
Louis grabbed Harry’s face in both hands, forcing him to gaze into his clear blue eyes. “Because, Harry. It’s the day the person who is most important to me was brought to life. It’s the day my soul mate was born. It’s your birthday, Harry.”

  
And then Harry was crying again, but this time the tears were happy, this time they felt good. “I love you, Harry Edward Styles. You are my soul mate.” Then Louis kissed him, and it wasn’t what one would think of as ideal by any means, because Harry was sick and they were both depressed as hell and their lips were salty instead of sweet, but it was good enough for Harry, and sometimes when surrounded by darkness, even the smallest light is enough to make everything perfect again.

  
No matter how briefly.


	11. Louis

When Louis awoke the next morning, it was to Harry’s far-too-thin body shaking with cold beside him. He also seemed to be whimpering in his sleep.

  
“Haz…” Louis said softly, prodding Harry in the shoulder in an attempt to gently awaken his sleeping boyfriend.

  
But Harry didn’t even stir. In fact, his small frightened cries were rising in volume. “Stop it…” he mumbled weakly. “I’m not. I can’t… please. Please stop…” He sounded like he was begging now and tears were beginning to slip from beneath his eyelids.

  
Distraught, Louis scooped Harry up in his arms. “Harry! Wake up! It’s just a dream. Nothing can hurt you. Nothing can touch you. I’m right here. I’ve got you. Darling, I won’t let anything harm you.”

  
Harry jolted awake and his eyes locked with Louis’, green and puffy from crying. Then he burst into tears and buried his face into Louis’ neck, sobbing and sniffling and clinging on for dear life. “Lou… oh Lou it was so horrible. It wouldn’t shut up and it wouldn’t st-stop doing it…”

  
Confused, Louis stroked Harry’s curls and held him close. “Shh, sweetheart. What was horrible? What wouldn’t stop?”

  
Harry hiccupped and looked up at Louis. “The v-voice. It kept t-telling me how f-fat I was and how I n-never would – never c-could be g-good enough. And t-then these hands just kept grabbing at my stomach and my thighs and whispering fat fat fat fat fat over and over again until it didn’t even seem like a real word anymore.”

  
Louis stared down at Harry with what he was sure was an expression of utter horror. He just couldn’t fathom what fucked up reason there could possibly be to explain why this perfect, wonderful, flawless, angel of a boy was plagued with such a strong and deep seated self-hatred.

  
He grabbed Harry’s chin a bit rougher than he had meant to and leaned in so the tips of their noses were brushing against one another. “You are not fat. And you will always, always be good enough. Hell, you are so far beyond good enough. You are perfect to me and I would love you regardless of whether you weighed ninety pounds or three hundred. That voice is lying to you, Harry. It’s wrong, okay?”  
Harry sniffed and wrapped his arms around Louis’ waist. “Yeah, okay.” He sighed and pressed a kiss into Louis’ tear stained shirt. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

  
He knew Harry was just being sweet, but his words still bothered Louis. “You didn’t have to do anything, Haz. We need each other, that’s just the way it works. Now let’s get some breakfast, alright darling?”

  
Harry hummed in agreement and released his hold so Louis could get up. Then he grinned.

  
Louis raised an eyebrow at him questioningly, but Harry simply shrugged and said, “I like it when you call me darling.”

  
Shocked out of formulating a response, Louis opted for heading into the kitchen to get started on breakfast instead. Yesterday he had found out through experience that it was better for Harry if he was just presented with food rather than having to choose what he wanted to eat. Because right now Harry didn’t want to eat anything. Louis just had to make sure that he fed Harry meals that were healthy as well as being filling. Today he cooked a pot of oatmeal which he poured into two bowls and topped with fresh berries and cinnamon.

  
When Harry came in and hesitantly sat down at the kitchen table Louis placed a steaming cuppa and the smaller of the two bowls in front of him before sitting as well.

  
“Thanks Lou,” said Harry softly, managing to send a weak little smile in Louis’ direction before focusing all his energy on forcing the food in front of him down his throat.

  
Louis smiled back at him. “So, babe, I was thinking of having Niall come and stay with you while I’m gone? The other boys can visit, obviously, but I figured it would be best if you didn’t have too many people looking after you.”

  
Harry nodded and Louis knew he didn’t need to elaborate because Harry understood. He wasn’t inviting all of them to stay with Harry because he knew that they would have all their attention on him and that would make Harry panic. And he was asking Niall because he knew that Liam would take his job way too seriously and would not be good at keeping Harry’s mind off things, and Zayn with his freakishly high metabolism would not understand why Harry could not eat the same amount as him. Niall, by contrast, was the most laid back and never judged anyone on anything, much less what or how they ate. So basically Niall was the least likely to cause Harry a panic attack.

  
“I’ve written up what he should make for you and how much you should eat. And if you ever need anything, even if you just want to talk, phone me alright? I’ll be just a phone call away. I don’t care if it’s four in the morning, you give me a ring.” Louis reached across the table to gently squeeze Harry’s hand.

  
Blinking, Harry stared up at him with slightly watery eyes. “But y-you’re not leaving n-now, are you?”

  
“No, babe.” Louis smiled reassuringly. “Not until later. We still have a couple hours yet till I have to go.”

  
Harry sniffed and took a small bite of oatmeal. “But I don’t want you to go,” he whispered.

  
“I know, Hazza. I know. But it’s only for a few days. Four at most. You will be fine. You’re so strong, Haz. I love you so much.”

  
Harry looked up, his eyes beginning to leak tears. “But I need you, Lou. You are the only thing holding me together right now. I fall apart when you’re away, and I know it’s stupid. I know it’s pathetic, but I can’t help it. I wish that I didn’t have to rely on you so much, but I do. So please, please don’t leave.”

  
Louis felt his heart breaking as he stood up to pull his fragile boyfriend into his arms. He so wished that he could just stay there with Harry, but he knew that he needed to see his family. They hadn’t been able to come see him when he was in the hospital, and he knew that his mother was going sick with worry. And he missed them too, he really did. It was just, they didn’t help like Harry did. They didn’t make him forget how worthless he was, how much he hated himself. But Harry did. Harry gave him a reason to be alive. He made him happy. It didn’t matter that Harry was probably even more fucked up then Louis, because he was still Harry. Healthy or sick, euphoric or depressed, Harry was still Harry. And Louis was still irrevocably in love with him.

  
“Harry, I really wish that I could stay here with you, but I have to go to Doncaster. My family needs to know that I’m doing okay. I haven’t seen them in ages, and with everything that’s happened, well. They need to see me. You’ll be okay. I will be back before you know it. Niall can keep you occupied. Chin up, sweetheart. Everything will get better. I promise. I love you, Harry. So fucking much.” Louis pulled back to give Harry a chaste kiss on the lips.

  
Harry sighed and closed his eyes. “I love you too, Lou.”

  
Louis kissed him again before he sat back down and said, “Lets finish our breakfast now, love.”

  
Harry sat himself down and resumed slowly eating his oatmeal, and even though he did it without complaint, Louis could see how hard it was for him. He finished about ten minutes before Harry did, and he thought he might start crying because of the way Harry winced and practically had to choke down each bite. If only Louis had never stopped living with Harry, he might have been able to catch the disorder sooner. Before everything went to shit. Before Harry’s body was reduced to little more than a skeleton. And before he had starved himself for so long that he couldn’t even remember how to eat.

  
Louis was jolted from his hellish thoughts by the sound of Harry dropping his spoon into the almost entirely empty bowl with a clatter. “I’m finished,” he said quietly.

  
“Great! Thank you for eating for me, Haz.” Harry blushed and Louis stood up to take their dishes over to the counter.  
As he was placing the bowls in the dishwasher, he felt stick-like arms wrap around the circumference of his waist. “You – you don’t have to thank me for eating, Louis.”

  
He turned around and pressed his nose into Harry’s shoulder, hugging him tight. “I know I don’t have to, Harry. But I know how hard it is for you. How you are fighting against yourself with every bite you take. And I want you to know how much it means that you’re trying to recover for me. I just wish there was something I could do for you to make this easier.”

  
Harry sighed and leaned forward to rest his chin on Louis’ shoulder. “Lou, you are making this easier. I wouldn’t be able to recover at all if it weren’t for you because you help me so much every day. You know, the day before you came back from the hospital, I hadn’t eaten in about four days. And I knew that you deserved someone who was healthy, someone who could help you recover. So I went into to the kitchen, and I got a hardboiled egg out of the fridge, and I sat for about ten minutes just staring at that egg. I tried to convince myself that I needed to eat it, that it was only seventy calories, but the stupid voice ruined it again. So I put that egg back in the fridge, and I went and cried myself to sleep.”

  
Louis didn’t even know what to say. Every new piece of information Harry gave him just horrified him even more as he realized just how serious Harry’s disorder really was.

  
Harry’s weak arms gave Louis a little squeeze. “The point is,” continued Harry with a sigh. “Is that I couldn’t make myself eat. I need you, Louis. You haven’t just made this easier for me, you’ve made it possible. So please don’t try to downgrade your importance.”  
Louis was shocked. It might be the self-hate talking, but he had honestly never realized how much he meant to Harry. “Oh Haz. I’m not going to pretend that it’s easy for me to accept compliments, because it’s damn near impossible, but that just might have been the first one that’s gotten through to me in a long time. So thank you.”

  
Harry groaned. “We need to stop thanking each other! We fix each other, that’s just how it works, no questions asked.”  
Louis laughed. “Okay Hazza. I love you.”

  
“I love you too, Louis.” He had leaned forward so his lips brushed against Louis’ with every syllable. “Do you want to go up to the roof top? It isn’t raining.”

  
“Sure Harry, I don’t think I’ve ever been.”

  
They turned and headed up the stairs that led to the roof. Louis felt the air on his face, and he immediately felt exhilarated. The wind was strong, and it yanked at Louis’ feather light fringe. When he had almost reached the top, he heard labored breathing behind him. He turned around to find Harry in the middle of the staircase doubled over whilst clutching his head; short, shallow breaths bursting from his mouth in spurts.

  
“Harry!” Louis rushed back down the stairs to his side, quickly grabbing on to him and helping him to sit down on one of the steps. “Deep breaths, come on, you’re alright. Do you feel like you’re going to pass out?”

  
Harry was still holding his head when he answered, “Not – not anymore. I – I’m okay now. God, I don’t know what’s happening to me.” Harry let out a loud sob, and Louis pulled him in against his chest.

  
“Shh, darling. You’re weak because you spent months starving yourself and your body was burning muscle to stay alive. You’ll just have to take it easy for a while until you can get your strength back. Don’t cry, Haz. It will be okay. You will be okay.”

  
Harry took a deep breath before slowly nodding his head. “Alright. Yeah can we – can we still go up to the roof?”

  
Louis nodded. “Yeah babe, here. I’ll help you.” He pulled Harry up to stand beside him, and tightly wrapped an arm around his waist. Harry grabbed the railing and they resumed their ascent.

  
When they reached the top, Louis led Harry over to one of the benches so they could admire the spectacular view of London. Louis found himself grinning as he looked out over the rooftops of the city he had grown to love. “It’s really beautiful up here, Hazza.”  
Harry blushed. “Yeah, I know it is. Listen, Louis, I want you to know that you can leave for Doncaster soon. You don’t have to wait until evening. I’ll be okay.”

  
Louis blinked, surprised. “Are you sure?”

  
“Yeah,” Harry gave him a sad little smile. “I’m sure. The sooner you leave, the sooner you can come home.”

  
“Alright then. I’ll phone Niall and tell him to come after lunch. You’ll be fine, babe. You and Niall will have fun.”

  
Harry just nodded, and Louis hoped he really was okay with Louis leaving for a few days.

 

* * *

 

Before Louis knew what was happening, he and Harry had eaten a lunch of egg salad sandwiches, and the flat’s doorbell was ringing.

  
He opened the door only to have Niall burst through it and launch himself at Louis. “How is he?” asked Niall quietly.

  
“He’s doing pretty well. He had breakfast and lunch with me, but he’s really not happy that I’m leaving. Make sure you keep him distracted. And try to mention his disorder as little as possible.”

  
Niall nodded. “Got it. We’ll just have a regular old guys’ weekend. FIFA, movies, more FIFA. Oh, and you said you were giving me a meal plan or something for him?”

  
“Yeah, just feed him the stuff I wrote on the note on the fridge, and don’t make any comments on how small of bites he takes or how long he takes to finish. Basically, just try and act like everything is normal. It helps him.”

  
“Sure, no problem. Your Hazza’s in good hands,” Niall said with a cheeky wink before heading into the living room to see Harry.  
Louis sighed in relief. He knew Niall was a good choice.

  
When he entered the living room, they were sitting on the couch watching a rerun of Friends and laughing loudly. “Harry? Babe? I’m going to get going, alright?”

  
Niall paused the TV and Harry got up and followed Louis out into the hallway. “I’ll miss you, Lou,” Harry said before grabbing the back of Louis’ neck and pressing their lips together.

  
Surprised, Louis kissed back until they were both gasping for air. “I’ll miss you too, Hazza. I love you. Have fun with Niall.” He smiled at Harry and gave him another peck on the lips.

  
Harry sniffed as a tear ran down his cheek. Louis gently wiped it away with his thumb. “Please don’t cry, love.”

  
“No, you’re right. I’m sorry. You should leave, before I lose it.”

  
Louis frowned. “Alright babe. I’ll see you in a few days, yeah? I love you, more than you know. Never forget that.” He kissed Harry one last time, then turned to grab his bags from the ground. “Bye Niall! Take care of Harry!”

  
“Of course, bye mate! Drive safe!” called Niall from the other room.

  
“Bye Haz,” said Louis softly. “I love you.”

  
“Bye,” mumbled Harry, staring at his feet.

  
Louis planted a kiss on his forehead, then turned and left the flat before he could convince himself that he should stay.  
But Louis didn’t hear what Harry whispered to the floor after the door had closed.

  
“Goodbye. I love you. I’m sorry.”

 

* * *

 

Louis stayed at his mother’s house in Doncaster for a solid three days. She and his sisters fussed over him constantly, always keeping him busy, trying to make him laugh. They didn’t bring up his suicide attempt at all, and for that he was grateful. He would have stayed longer, he really would have, except for the whole time he was there he had been worrying about Harry constantly. They had been texting constantly nearly the whole time, but then on the last day Harry had suddenly stopped replying. Louis had phoned him, and phoned Niall, but neither of them had answered. And he just had the feeling that something had gone horribly wrong.

  
So he said goodbye to his family, despite their insistence that he stay another day, and made the long drive back to London.

  
When he was almost back to the flat, Niall finally phoned him back. “Hey mate, what’s up?”

  
Louis tried to calm his anger. “What’s up? Well, neither you nor Harry have answered your phones all day. Where are you?”

  
“Oh um, well I had to go run some errands, and Harry was still sleeping when I woke up.”

  
Louis sighed. “Well, are you back with him now?”

  
There was a pause. “No… Simon needed me to go to the studio to work on some last minute writing for the album.”

  
“You mean to tell me that Harry has been alone since this morning? Its five p.m. Niall!” Louis was starting to panic now.

  
“Yeah… but Lou, he’s been doing so well these past few days! I thought it would be fine for him to be alone for a few hours.” Niall sounded guilty.

  
Louis huffed. “Okay, whatever. I have to go. I’m almost home.”

  
He hung up just as he pulled into the parking garage. Running into the lobby, Louis jabbed his finger onto the button for the lift, impatiently bouncing on his heels as he waited for it to arrive. He jumped in as soon as it did, and the ride seemed impossibly long. After what seemed like an eternity, the doors dinged open and he fumbled for the key to the flat. He pushed open the door and it banged violently into the wall behind it.

  
“Harry!” he called rushing in and looking around frantically. “Harry its Louis! I’m home!”

  
There was no reply, and Louis’ heart began to pound unpleasantly in his chest. He checked every room, but Harry was nowhere to be found. Then he had an idea. The rooftop. Harry wouldn’t have been able to hear him if he was out there.

  
He unlocked the door to the staircase, and burst through it into the steadily darkening evening. It was raining, and the wind blew water in Louis’ eyes, making it hard for him to see. He made his way up the stairs holding a hand in front of his face. “Harry! Are you out here? Harry please answer me so I kn-“

  
But he didn’t need an answer, because Harry was out there alright. In fact, Louis almost tripped over him on his way up the stairs, because Harry was sprawled unconscious about three quarters of the way up, his curls sopping wet and plastered to his pale, pale skin. “Harry! No no no no no no no no! Harry please! Fuck, not again.”

  
Louis had knelt beside his boyfriend and was now pulling out his phone to dial 9-1-1. The operator told him to stay on the phone while he waited for the paramedics to arrive; but his hands were shaking so much that he dropped it. He stroked a hand down Harry’s cheek, and whimpered at how icy cold it felt. “Please, I can’t be too late, don’t let me be too late! I can’t lose you Haz, what went wrong? You were doing so well. You were going to recover. You c-can’t d-die, you have to r-recover! I love you! Harry Edward Styles, are you listening to me? I’m fucking in love with you god damn it! You can’t leave because I love you. Please don’t leave me.”

  
When he heard the sirens’ wailing growing closer, he was struck by how this must have been exactly how Harry felt when Louis had nearly killed himself. And then he was clutching Harry’s soaking wet jumper, sobbing, because it was just too much. Because they were both so fucked up and because they were both killing themselves, just in different ways. Because what were the odds that two fifths of the world’s biggest boy band would have all these problems. Why did it have to be them?

  
Louis didn’t realize he was screaming until Zayn was wrapping him in a hug, telling him to hush, and Harry was being whisked away on a stretcher. Then a man in paramedics’ uniform approached him and asked if Harry had any health problems.

  
But Louis couldn’t answer him, he was crying too hard.

  
So Zayn answered for him. “Yes he has fucking health problems! He’s fucking anorexic!”

  
Louis sobbed loudly at that, and he turned to look up at the man. “Do – do you know what happened to him? Do you k-know why he w-was unconscious? Is he going to be okay?”

  
The man gazed at him with sad eyes. “We don’t know. We don’t know if he is going to live. There’s a chance he might not make it. He’s – he’s experienced heart failure.”

  
And with those words, Louis’ world stopped. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t do anything. He just sunk to the ground and sat there in the pouring rain, staring into space. Too shell-shocked to do anything but be.


	12. Harry

He had really done it this time. He knew that he shouldn’t have taken advantage of the fact that Niall was slightly less than observant.

But it had just been too easy. It wasn’t so much that Harry wanted to continue starving himself, it was just that if presented with the opportunity, his disorder would do everything in its power to continue killing him. If there wasn’t someone keeping track of every single thing he ate, it sure as hell wouldn’t allow him to eat. Anorexia was powerful, and it sure as well would not go out without a fight.

  
But now he was in big trouble. To be honest, Harry wasn’t even entirely sure that he was still alive. The last clear thing he remembered was walking up the stairs to the roof after Niall had left to go run errands. In fact if he wasn’t in so much pain, he would be panicking.

He would panic about what Louis would think about Harry succumbing once again to the power of his disorder. He would panic about Niall blaming himself for Harry’s relapse. He would panic about the other boys blaming Niall. He would panic about what would happen to the band, and their fans. He would panic about what his family’s reactions would be, particularly his sister and mother. But most of all, Harry would panic about what Louis would do if Harry had actually managed to off himself this time. Because he knew that Louis was already unstable as hell, and the slightest thing could throw him over the edge. And he also knew that Louis would lose the will to live, because that’s exactly what happened to Harry when he thought that he had lost Louis.

  
But Harry couldn’t panic about anything, because his chest kept exploding with these horrific white hot bursts of pain. He felt as though he was being drowned and burned alive simultaneously. Drowned, by the heavy darkness that pressed in around him and couldn’t be penetrated no matter how hard he concentrated; and burned, by the pain jolting through his chest.

  
Suddenly, a jolt ten times hotter and more painful than all the previous ones combined ripped through him. Light stabbed at his eyes blinding him, and Harry felt himself coughing, retching, gasping; trying everything to force air into his unresponsive lungs. And then just as quickly as it had begun, everything stopped, plunging him back into darkness. He could hear a desperate voice that would have sounded familiar if he could even think at all calling his name as his breathing gradually returned to an even pace.

 

* * *

 

Harry drifted in and out of consciousness, going from moments of feeling as if he were suspended in limbo to being able to make out scattered bits of conversation between the anxious inhabitants of his room. Or perhaps they wouldn’t actually be considered conversations. From what Harry could tell, the exchanges that took place in what he had deduced to be a hospital room, mostly consisted of doctors and nurses providing updates on his condition, the boys comforting and discussing in hushed tones, and Louis crying. Although, to his credit, Louis did occasionally talk to him. But Harry usually tried to tune out his words because the utter terror in Louis’ voice just served to remind Harry how serious his condition really was. The only highlight of hearing Louis’ exchanges with him, was that Harry heard Louis say that the boys were keeping a close watch on him. That he had felt the urge to cut, but the boys had not left him alone once. Harry was slightly comforted by this because he had been so terrified that Louis would fall off the edge again, that he would once again be responsible for his boyfriend’s decent into his own personal hell.

  
Harry didn’t know how long it was until he was finally able to pry his eyelids open, but when he did, he was reminded once again of why he had to recover, or rather, why he wanted to.

  
As he blinked the sand from his eyes, he noticed that Louis was asleep in a chair beside the hospital bed; head resting on the bed beside their loosely intertwined fingers. His hair hung in a soft, un-styled fringe across his forehead, and he wore a pale blue jumper whose sleeves rode up just enough that Harry could see the pink scares on the inside of his wrists.

  
Doubting his ability to lift himself off the pillows, Harry simply cleared his throat and gave Louis’ hand a light squeeze. Louis blinked blearily, yawned, and slowly glanced up until his eyes connected with Harry’s. The look on his face when he realized that Harry was awake would have been comical if it wasn’t for the fact that Harry was trying desperately not to break down sobbing right there.  
A sort of dazed look passed over Louis’ face before he burst into tears and launched himself at Harry, clinging to him like his life depended on it. “I th-th-thought that you- that you- that you were gone for good.” Louis’ voice is muffled against Harry’s chest and he can’t stand it. He reaches out a shaky hand to stroke along Louis’ back and is shocked by just how much energy it takes to move one hand. “Fuck Harry,” Louis mumbles. “Your chest is so bony.”

  
Harry feels his cheeks heat with embarrassment and he can’t help the strangled sob that escapes his mouth. Louis immediately looks up. “Oh god, I’m sorry Haz. You know I didn’t mean- fuck. You’re just- you’re so perfect. So beautiful, and you don’t see it. And I’m just- I’m terrified that- that you won’t-“ Louis pauses and takes a deep breath. “That you won’t get well. And I- I need you to get well.” Louis looks up and takes in Harry’s sunken, tear-streaked cheeks. “Shit, darling I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about this anymore. I just missed you. So. Damn. Much.”

  
Louis pulls himself up onto the stiff hospital bed so that he’s kneeling with a leg on either side of Harry’s skinny form. He grabs Harry’s right hand in his left and presses it back against the pillows as he leans forward and kisses him. Louis’ free hand goes up to fist in Harry’s curls and Harry feels himself relax as he melts against Louis’ lips. “Lou,” he moans as a fresh set of tears leak onto his cheeks. “I love you,” Harry whimpers against his lips. “I’m sorry I’m like this. But I will recover. For you, I’d do anything.”

  
Louis smiles as he leans back slightly to stroke his thumb along Harry’s cheek to catch some of the tears. “Then I guess I better start thinking of some really good stuff for you to do.”

  
Harry lets out a watery laugh that he’s pretty sure comes out making him sound more like a drowned cat than anything else, but it’s still a laugh nonetheless.

  
The next thing either of them know, a nurse is coming into the room, squawking indignantly as she notices Louis’ current position, then shooing him off the bed so she can attend to Harry. Louis must have texted the boys because a few minutes later they’re all bounding into the room, and this time all three of them are crying tears of happiness. And once the nurse leaves they all pile onto his bead and then all five of them are clinging to each other and crying and then Niall, Liam, and Zayn cry even harder when Louis tells them that Harry has agreed to go to rehab. And then they all hug him and even though he knows that recovery will be hard as hell, Harry thinks that maybe it’s worth it if it means he’ll be surrounded by these four people the whole time.

 

* * *

 

The day Harry gets out of rehab it’s Christmas Eve, Louis’ birthday. Harry tries to plan something for him, but Louis insists that Harry finally coming home is the best present he’s ever had. When he walks out the doors of the inpatient center, he and Louis run at each other like something out of a cheesy romance movie. They’re both hysterical, and they exchange frantic, desperate kisses in between sobs and bouts of uncontrollable giggles. They’re both wrapped up in itchy scarves to block out the cold and the paparazzi line the gates of the courtyard, but they don’t care. Sure, Louis has visited Harry during his six month stint at the center, but it isn’t the same. Now they’re full on making out in public and everyone knows about their relationship and some might not like it but they don’t care because they’re finally free. And the fans have been so supportive of Harry as he went through recovery. Louis had showed him some of their tweets each time he visited since Harry wasn’t allowed full access to the internet. And even now when they climb in the car and Harry checks twitter his mentions are blowing up with people gushing about how cute he and Louis are and how glad they are that Harry is better and how proud they are of him for overcoming his anorexia and how he looks so healthy and happy and Harry just really loves their fans.

  
Liam, Zayn and Niall are waiting for them in the car and it’s all just a big happy family reunion. And that’s what they are, Harry thinks. A family. And a damn good one at that. Because he certainly never would have made it through this if it weren’t for those four boys.

  
They all have a cozy and boisterous celebratory dinner back at the flat that Harry and Louis now officially share, and then after they’ve said goodbye to the boys Louis leads Harry to his car where he mysteriously blindfolds him. Harry begs Louis to tell him where they’re headed but Louis of course refuses, simply letting forth a ridiculously adorable little giggle and saying, “you’ll see soon enough” or “patience young Harold” and Jesus it should be illegal for someone to be that cute.

  
When the car finally stops and Louis removes the blindfold, Harry lets out a small gasp of surprise. Because they’re in the deserted parking lot outside the X Factor studios where he and Louis had their first auditions. And it’s beautiful. The lights in the lot cast a soft glow on the snow covered ground and as Louis takes Harry’s hand and leads him into the center it begins to snow lightly.

  
Louis pulls Harry close against his hips. “Lou, what are we doing here?” He means to sound teasing, but he thinks it just comes out sounding breathless and giddy.

  
Louis grins and pulls Harry down by the back of his neck for a kiss. “Shh Hazza. You’re going to ruin my speech.”  
Harry raises his eyebrows but says nothing.

  
“Haz, over four years ago, we both auditioned for the show that changed our lives. That was also the same day that I met my soul mate, and I have been hopelessly in love with him ever since. I know we actually met in the bathroom, but I figured that wasn’t very romantic and I didn’t figure it would be very appropriate to do this there and- anyway, what I’m trying to say is- Harry, you are my other half, my soul inside another body, and I love you with everything I have. I know that, this last year especially, has been hell. And I am just so glad that we are both still here. And- fucking hell. I’m just going get to it.”

  
Louis grasped both Harry’s hands in his own and knelt to the snow-covered ground removing a small velvet covered box from his pocket. “Harry Edward Styles, will you marry me?”

  
Harry could feel the tears hot on his cheeks as he began nodding frantically, his body regaining control of itself before his vocal cords did. “Yes, yes of course you bloody idiot, do you even need to ask?”

  
And then Louis was pulling himself up grinning like a Cheshire cat as he pulled a tearful Harry into his arms and pressed kiss after frost bitten kiss to his face. And they continued to stand there kissing in the softly falling snow until long after they couldn’t feel their toes and their lips were numb for reasons that had nothing to do with the frigid temperature.

  
And a little bit later, as they stood staring up at the stars with their arms around each other Harry turns to Louis and says, “Lou, is this our happy ending?”

  
And Louis pecks him on the lips and replies with, “No, Haz. Real love stories never have endings.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://rainbow-yuuri.tumblr.com/)


End file.
